


XX

by TheKnittingLady



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-20 23:38:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 34,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3669423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheKnittingLady/pseuds/TheKnittingLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer returns from an encounter with an Unsub with a new friend and a secret that will change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Friends can help each other. A true friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself - and especially to feel. Or, not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at the moment is fine with them. That's what real love amounts to - letting a person be what he really is._

_\- Jim Morrison_

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**Wilmington Police Department**  
**Southeast Division**  
 **Wilmington NC**

**June 2011**

Morgan sighed as he and JJ walked into the conference room. The only good thing about the human trafficking case was that JJ was back. She'd come on as a newly minted profiler, taking Emily's slot more or less. Technically she was the newbie, but she had enough experience with them over the years to have the chops. They didn't have to kid glove her at all.

Okay, maybe two good things. Ashley Seaver had been transferred to Domestic Trafficking under Andi Swan. Unfortunately they were working this case with Andi and her people, which meant that while Ashley technically had a different boss, she was still working with them. And she did still need the kid glove treatment. Good agent, or she would be when she had some experience under her belt. "This doesn't make any sense." She said for about the umpteenth time as she stared at the map.

"It will. We just have to find the pattern." Spencer replied for the umpteenth time.

No one was under any illusions that they had shut the entire ring down. They had caught one cell, the one in DC. But the laptops they had recovered had shown that the traffickers had been capturing college kids from across the US and steadily moving them to east coast cities. They'd hit large college cities as far west as Denver. But the most activity had come from the large coastal cities, Boston, New York, DC/Baltimore, Miami, Houston.

And Wilmington. Which had two universities of any size. Why they had taken so many kids from here apparently a year ago was a standout mystery. "Why here? This town does not fit." Seaver said again.

"We got a list of students missing from Trinity Seminary over the past five years." JJ said. "We already sent it to Garcia."

The problem was that college students were a very mobile population and not one that always remained obviously on the grid. Garcia was going to have to dig for each one to see if they really were missing or if they just dropped off and moved on. "Were Hotch and Rossi able to get one from UNC?" Reid asked.

"They're working on it." Morgan replied. "No one keeps good records on this sort of thing."

"Most of them are probably backpacking around the world or something." JJ said.

Morgan's phone rang just as Reid looked like he was going to say something, and just as some kind of commotion started up at the front desk. "Mon splendide morceau d'un dieu. " Garcia purred at him. "I found something weird in this list."

"Hold on baby girl." Morgan said. "Let me get where I can hear you. Let me know what the genius says." He said to JJ as Spencer turned back to the map. Kid was clearly being hit with a brain wave or something. He kept the line open as he went to step out the back door.

Which was how Garcia clearly heard the shot. And then the explosion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**New Hanover Medical Center**   
**Wilmington NC**

**June 2011**

"How is he?" Rossi asked as he walked into the waiting room.

"Out of surgery." Hotch replied. "The bullet missed everything important, he has some cracked ribs but he'll be okay. What about JJ, Reid and Seaver?"

"No sign of them. The guys who were there said that three guys in motorcycle helmets came in and asked for the FBI. When the Desk Sergeant turned to get them they pulled out guns and tossed something in the bullpen. A bright flash, a huge boom..."

"Flash bang grenade." Hotch nodded.

"They set off a couple of them, maximize the chaos." Rossi nodded. "A security camera across the street caught them carrying three bodies out to a waiting van. According to Garcia there's a high probability that one of them was Reid."

"She could tell at that distance?"

"He's long and skinny, it stands out." He shook his head. He could feel the guilt trying to creep in around the edges but he couldn't allow that now.

Of course Aaron noticed. That's what made him so good at this. "They're tough." He said quietly. "They'll make it."

"Reid and JJ, yeah. But what about Ashley? I invited her into the unit, I pressed to have her stay on, she hasn't been out of the Academy a year, she has no training or experience for this sort of thing."

Hotch sighed. "We'll find them." He looked down as his phone chirped. "Stay here, I have to take this."

Rossi watched him go. What could be more important than this?

* * *

**Somewhere else**

JJ opened her eyes and blinked at the ceiling above her. It rippled in the dim light. And it was moving, everything was moving. She could not handle moving right now. So she closed her eyes and rolled over and snuggled back into the bed.

Wait a minute.

Why was she in a bed?

She sat up too quickly, which did not help the moving of the world one bit. She was in a bed, one surrounded on three sides by metal walls. Seaver was lying on the inside, still asleep. But why was she in a bed with Seaver?

JJ closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Okay, she'd been with Morgan. They'd gone to the Seminary and talked to the registrar about missing students. Then they went back to the station. There had been a commotion, something metal was thrown into the room from the front, there had been a bright light and this loud noise and she'd been tossed to the floor. Then, before she had a chance to shake it off, arms went around her and something bit her neck...

Flash-bang, she thought, to disorient us. And then we were drugged and brought here. But where is here? And why can't I shake this? What did they give me? Everything feels like it's moving.

She rolled to her other side and sat up as she studied the next disquieting sight. They were in a fairly narrow metal box, maybe eight foot by forty. The bed she and Seaver shared was tucked into one end. From what she could tell from the single, dim bulb the other end held a small bathroom. In between was a door in the center of one long end. Opposite it was a couch, where Spence was also sleeping it off. Well that was three, maybe Morgan was around here somewhere.

She got up, staggering as the world dipped and swam, and hung on to the walls as she made her way to the bathroom. There was another light in there, thankfully. She did what needed doing, and made use of the thin towels to splash some water on her face. They had left her watch, assuming it was the same day they had been out for about eight hours. But where the hell were they? And why couldn't she shake the vertigo?

She staggered her way back, in time to find Spence moving and muttering. "Spence. Spence. Wake up."

"Whazzit?"

"We've been taken by Unsubs."

"What? JJ?" He opened one eye and looked at her.

"Unsubs."

"Where?"

"Don't know yet. We're in some kind of cell."

He sat up and groaned. "Dizzy."

"Me too. I can't seem to shake it."

"Bathroom?"

"Over there."

He made his way out while she got Seaver to come around, having much the same conversation. Spence took a bit longer than she expected, but he came back out with his glasses on. "Something was polinating." He explained. "I was about to head to the bathroom to do this. I had it all in my pockets."

"I don't suppose you still have your phone in your pocket." Hers had been on the conference table. Spence reached down and pulled out the most blessed wonder of all, his phone. She sighed in relief. "Oh thank god."

"Don't be too thankful." He replied. "I don't have a signal."

"Maybe it's this cell were in." She rapped on the wall, which gave a hollow ringing sound. "I wonder if we can pick the lock.

Spence leaned over and looked at the door just as Seaver came out of the bathroom. "There is no lock." He opened it experimentally and let in bright sunlight and clean, fresh air.

They opened it carefully and looked out. There was a clear space as wide as the cell, maybe twenty foot long. It was surrounded by at least ten feet of chain link fence topped with barbed wire. To their left the fence had been woven with vinyl strips, making it impossible to see through. To the right what looked like a large building loomed five stories high. Directly in front was an open space and then another fenced yard and...and... "Where are we?" Seaver asked.

Spence took a deep breath. "I think we're at sea."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 03**

**Aboard the MV _Mairangi Bay_**   
**Somewhere in the Atlantic**

**June 2011**

"At sea?" JJ asked. But it was a rhetorical question. That explained why they felt like they were moving. It also explained the stacks of cargo containers, five high, that topped the "cells" in this yard and the one opposite.

"Before we were invaded I was going to point out that while Wilmington isn't really a college town it does have one thing in common with the other nexus of high activity." Spence said. "It has a container port. And containers like these are great for human trafficking specifically because they act like cells. I wasn't expecting that they had their own ship though." He held up his phone. "Still no signal; we're too far out for one."

"So they use this for transport?" Seaver asked.

"Ummm, I don't think so." Spencer pointed to wires high overhead and rolled up cloths. "I think those are tarps they use to hide the deck when close to land. With that and the way the containers are stacked around the edge they could blend in with shipping traffic. But if they were just moving people they wouldn't need all this space, they could move them with actual cargo and have it a lot safer. I think this might be a floating headquarters or...brothel."

"A brothel?"

"They could take it out into international waters and do anything they like to their victims. It might not even be a crime."

Seaver's eyes were huge. "Thank you Dr. Reid."

JJ understood the feeling. It was hard not to notice that they had taken the prettiest members of the BAU. "What are they going to do to us?"

"Not a clue." Spence replied. He turned back and looked at the container that was now their cell. "They put us in the VIP cell though." Sure enough, someone had scrawled something in Russian across the steel.

"Lovely." JJ said. She turned as some openly armed men started down the stairs on the outside of that big building. "I wonder what that is."

"The wheelhouse and crew quarters. Past that would be the rear of the ship."

"I wonder if they know who we are." Seaver said.

"Don't say anything." JJ warned her. "Until we know if it's better to tell them or not."

But that didn't matter. The leader of the small group of men coming down stopped and looked them over. "FBI," he said. Then he sucked his teeth and continued past their yard to whatever lay beyond that woven fence.

Behind him came other men, one of whom carried a box. "Otkroyte vorota!" He said to the others. While most of them menaced them with the weapons they carried the gate at the front of the yard was opened and the box shoved through. Then they were left alone again.

Spence got to it first and got it open. "What is it?" JJ asked.

"MRE's, toilet paper, and spare clothing." He held up items in cheap heather gray. "At least they're feeding us."

JJ managed a wry smile. "No decks of cards?"

Spence considered this, shrugged, and moved over to the fence. "Can we get a deck of cards? Cards?" He mimed dealing.

The guards looked at each other and shrugged. "Pochemu net." One said to another. "Nichego dlya bednogo cheloveka ne sdelat' zdes'.." He pulled a worn deck from his pocket and tossed it into the yard.

"My mogli by pozvolit' yemu imet' shlyukhoy ." The other said.

"U nego yest' svoi sobstvennyye shlyukh ." The first replied, which brought a laugh.

"Thank you." Spence said to them. He collected the deck and came back.

"I thought you spoke Russian." Seaver said quietly.

"I do. I don't want them to know." Spence replied just as quietly. "Why not, nothing for a poor man to do here. We could let him have a...woman. He has his own women." He translated rapidly.

"Women?" JJ asked.

"Um...prostitutes..."

"Whores," JJ and Seaver said together.

Then Spence's eyes twitched as he remembered. "The activity we saw in the coastal towns, they were moving female victims."

"You might be the only male prisoner on this ship." JJ replied.

"That's disquieting."

"So what do we do now?" Seaver asked.

"Try to build a profile." JJ replied. "See what we can do with it. Lose to Spence at cards."

"Lose?"

"You have no idea."

* * *

They spent the rest of that day playing cards in the shadow of the wheelhouse, happily losing to Spencer while he listened to the crew talk and women beyond the fence cry out in a dozen different languages. "They're mostly talking about gambling, drinking and visiting prostitutes at their next port call." Spencer said when the sun went down and it was too cold and dark to stay out there.

"Where is that?" JJ asked.

"They're not saying."

"Are they saying how long?"

"No. Without knowing where we are it would be impossible to tell."

"Prostitutes?" Seaver asked. "I thought this ship was full of them. We heard all those women."

"From the sound of it the crew doesn't get freebies."

"Am I the only one relieved at that?"

"No." JJ said. "Now we just have to hope that they don't get any paying customers while we're onboard."

* * *

They were not that kind of lucky.

As the sun was going down the next day a helicopter appeared. It flew close over the ship, circled twice, and then appeared to land on the other side of the wheelhouse. "It sounds like the kind of customers they deal with tend to have that kind of money." Spencer said.

"Great." JJ said. "Hopefully he's here for someone he knows, a regular."

Nope. About an hour later, just as they were thinking of picking up and going to bed, the leader of the men came to the gate of the pen. "FBI," he said, and then he motioned them to come out.

There were too many men and too many guns. They left quietly, single file, JJ, Seaver and Spence, putting the newest in the middle. "Eto kto-to khochet kupit' zhenshchin." The leader said. "Postavit' cheloveka v kletke s urodom. On mozhet igrat' medsestru dlya nas."

"Da kapitan." One of the ones behind them said.

"Hey!" Spencer called out.

When they turned to look he'd been tossed into the cell across from theirs, and the gate was being locked. "No. We stay together." JJ insisted.

The leader glared at her. "Go." He pointed to the stairs.

"No!" She lunged for Spence as he lunged for her, but there were too many of them. It was a brief fight, lots of yelling and scrabbling, but it wasn't long before she was being pulled off her feet, even as Seaver was already being carried up the stairs.

She looked back the entire way. Spencer was standing there, clinging to the cage that surrounded him, naked fear in his eyes. He was all alone as he watched her go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 04**

**Aboard the MV _Mairangi Bay_**   
**Somewhere in the Atlantic**

**June 2011**

JJ and Seaver were half dragged, half carried into the ship, kicking and screaming the entire way. But the men carrying them didn't care. With crude efficiency they bound their hands and pulled them straight up over their heads, tying them off, leaving them balanced on their toes. "Let us go!" Seaver screamed.

In reply JJ felt a huge hand cup her jaw and dig into the joint. When it forced her mouth to open a large ball was stuffed into it and then buckled behind her head. She looked over at Seaver only to find that her friend was getting the same treatment. Great.

And then the leader came over and ripped their shirts open.

JJ winced as buttons rattled off into the corner. Hopefully he wouldn't go any further. She'd expected this, had been expecting it for some time, you saw it so much in this job. But it was all new for Seaver; her eyes were so wide you could drown in them. Poor kid would likely quit the Bureau after this and she couldn't blame her.

Thankfully the leader did not continue. He barked some orders at the guards and then left. Two armed men remained, standing there and ogling them while they hung. And hung. And hung. They hung until JJ's arms went past pain to numbness, and the ache in her jaw brought tears to her eyes.

Finally, what seemed like hours later, the leader came back. He was chuckling as he came, brought the smell of good alcohol and expensive, tasteful cologne with him. "You see." He said to the man who came with him. "FBI. Matched set."

"Dear god." The man with him was wearing a very well tailored suit, his tie loose and his collar open. He was here for the fun, relaxed and enjoying the company. He sounded British, looked it as he stepped closer to look them over. "Mmmm." He purred with appreciation as he lifted the edge of JJ's shirt to admire the swell of her breasts in her bra underneath. "Aren't they lovely?" American FBI? You're sure?"

"Of course." The leader came over and pawed into JJ's pocket, pulling out her badge and handing it over. Did the same with Seaver, who twisted and kicked. "Still strong these ones."

"That they are. Oof!" The Brit fell back laughing as Seaver managed to land a glancing blow on his thigh. "That one's got all the fire. Well they are certainly worth the asking price. I'll take both."

"Excellent! Excellent! We drink to the deal!" The leader was in fine spirits now. "Come! Come!" With a final smile from the...the...buyer they went back out the way they came.

That was when it hit JJ. They had been _sold_. Been sold as slaves to some complete and utter stranger who would do whatever he wanted to them. She looked over at Seaver, saw the raw terror in the other woman's eyes and knew it was mirrored in her own. But she had to be strong; technically she was the more senior agent, although that felt laughable right about now.

More men came in. They were taken down and JJ felt tears come to her eyes as the blood rushed back into her arms. Their wrists were pinned behind them, then the world went dark as a hood was pulled over her head. JJ felt herself being pulled and led through the ship, stumbling along until they went through one more door and they were outside again. This time the ocean wind hit them with no protection, cutting through open shirts to bare skin like a knife. She was led somewhere then pushed to crouch and go in, almost crawl in to this small space where she had to lie down. She felt someone crawling in, recognized Seaver's shampoo, and held still as her friend stretched out next to her. She heard a door close, taking the fresh air and sound of the sea with it, and then there was nothing.

She had no clue how long it was before the helo's engine started and they lifted into the air.

A powerful sense memory came to her then. She had been lying in bed one lazy Sunday morning and Henry had come running in and jumped on the bed with the paper in hand. Just as she sat up to grab him and tickle Will had come in with breakfast in bed and word that it was snowing hard. They'd cozied up in their warm bedroom, all snuggled together, and read the paper to each other and stories for Henry and had the best, sweetest time.

And now she might never see them again.

She couldn't stop the tears that ran down her face in the darkness as they flew off into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 05**

**Aboard HMS _Lady Elizabeth  
_ in the North Atlantic**   
**Lat 33.137551/Long 53.012697**

**June 2011**

They landed, which did nothing to help.

At some point during their flight JJ had found her resolve again. They had to survive this, they _had_ to. They knew the drill, pacify the Unsub, do what it took to survive, and wait for the team to rescue you. That was how it was with any Unsub, this was no different.

But she nearly lost it when they landed. The door opened to the smell of jet fuel and ocean, and lots of male voices calling and yelling. They got Seaver first, she squealed and started thrashing but they pulled her out anyway. Then JJ felt hands on her legs and she was being tugged out of the storage compartment and set on her feet and guided inside where she could hear Seaver crying.

They took the bag off her head, and her heart nearly stopped.

"JJ!" Emily said.

She was there! She was there and Clyde Easter was moving around and they were getting that dammed gag off and for a moment all JJ could do was cough and choke and try to get more air into her. Beyond them were other men, men in uniform, Navy uniforms. They were safe! They were safe!

But not all of them. "Spence!" JJ said as soon as she found air. "They still have Spence! We have to go back for him!"

"What?" Emily turned and looked behind her.

Standing there was the man in the suit, the man who had bought her and Seaver leaning casually against a pipe, his silk tie loose around his neck. Now it was his turn to look afraid. "He said he had two agents for sale. Not three."

"No! They have him! Emily we _left_ him there!" They had to go back and get Spencer!

"I'll go tell the Captain to turn the ship around." Clyde said and headed off.

"Agent...Agent Prentiss, you're...alive..." Seaver managed to gasp out.

"We're hunting Doyle. Dead is the best cover." Emily replied. "We got a tip that he was with the group on the ship. We realized he wasn't but then we got word that they had federal agents up for a quick sale about the time Hotch called me. So Mark here went through with the buy he was using as cover." She nodded to the man in the suit who waved a hello.

"Undercover..." Seaver asked.

"With Interpol," he replied. "You were never in any danger from me, darling."

"Do we need to get you two to sick bay?" Emily asked.

By now their hands were free, and Emily and Mark helped her and Seaver to their feet. "I don't think so." JJ replied. "We weren't raped. They didn't touch us."

"He was bragging about that." Mark replied, "Charged a premium for it. Bloody wanker. We weren't even looking for your man there; those bastards don't deal in men. There's no good reason for him to be on that ship."

"We just have to get to Spence." JJ said.

"Let's hope we can find them." Emily replied as she led the way to the bridge.

* * *

By the time they got there the ship was long gone.

* * *

**Naval Station Norfolk  
Norfolk VA**

"We left him!" JJ moaned again.

"It's all right Momma." Morgan said, pulling her into an embrace against his good side. He'd left the hospital early for this. "Reid is strong, he'll survive. And we're going to go after him."

"No we're not." Dave said.

"What?" Morgan asked.

"The one place we know that he's not is inside the United States. The one place where we have jurisdiction."

"Oh to hell with jurisdiction..."

Dave held up a hand to stop him. "What we are going to do is find Doyle. After all, given that his son is here..." It was phrased as question. Emily nodded. "...then he's going to come back here. And that will free up these two, who _have_ jurisdiction, to keep looking."

"The problem is that our mission is to find Doyle." Clyde said. "He is an internationally wanted weapons dealer and terrorist after all. That's how we were able to commandeer the ship."

"Human traffickers, a floating brothel and a law enforcement officer from a close ally being held." The Captain of the _Lady Elizabeth_ huffed. "I doubt Her Majesty would mind a little mission drift in this case."

"And we'll get word out to both Navies." Hotch said.

"We'll get word out to every Navy, Coast Guard, commercial fleet, research vessel, cruise ship and fishing trawler." Dave replied. "We'll have nothing but eyes out there. That boat will have to wander into a shipping lane eventually and when it does we'll find it."

"And then we'll put him back together." Emily said with a sigh. "In the meantime I'm still dead."

"We're going to have to talk about that at some point." Morgan replied.

"I know." She said back. "Let's just get Reid home first."

Hugs all around and Clyde and Emily set back out on the hunt.

Hotch and Dave lingered and watched them go. "What do you think the odds are?" Dave asked.

"It's a big ocean," was Hotch's only reply.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 06**

**Jareau -LaMontagine Home  
Washington DC**

**Early July, 2011**

"Mommy!" Henry cried out as JJ came in the door. He ran over and gave her a huge hug. "You're home! You're home! You're home in time!"

"I am." JJ picked Henry up and swung him around. "And we are still going to the party."

"Yayyyyyy!" Henry went running down the hall in his excitement, running right past Will.

"'Least he's looking forward to it." Will said, coming over to kiss JJ hello.

"Yeah, I know." She could only fake so much happiness anymore, so she saved it all up for Henry. "Has he said anything?"

"Nope."

"Thank god." Usually they went to Dave's for the traditional 4th of July cookout. But this year they were spending it with the guys from DC Metro, where Will was working now that Henry could be in school all day. No one at the BAU felt like celebrating freedom this year, and hopefully Henry would be too distracted to notice who was missing.

"Any sign of him?"

"Not one." JJ sat at the dining table and slumped. "Penelope looked it up, if they took on a full load of fuel and supplies it could be sixty days before that ship even gets near a port."

"Damn."

JJ rested her head in her hands. "What if he we never find him? What if he doesn't come back?"

"He will. You just gotta stay strong chère. Someone will find him."

"What if they don't? What do we tell Henry?"

Will sighed. "Cross that bridge when we get there."

* * *

**Bennington Care Facility  
Las Vegas, NV**

**Late July 2011**

"That's very kind of you." Dr. Norman said.

"We suspect he has an automatic payment set up." Dave said. "He's still receiving his regular pay, we consider him still on the job unless something changes. But just in case."

Dr. Norman nodded. "Dr. Reid confided in me that he has a generous life insurance policy, should the worst happen Diana will be cared for."

"Good to know. How is she taking the loss of contact?"

"Not well, of course. With her new medication schedule she's been able to stay in touch with reality at least, but she worries."

"Anyone would." Dave sighed. "I just hope I can lie well enough to fool her."

"That's going to be tough."

Dave tried though. He was sent out undercover, still in contact but it was taking longer. Sent his love though. "You're lying." Diana said straight to his face.

"What gave it away?"

"A mother knows. He's in trouble, isn't he?"

Dave nodded. "It's an active case though, I can't say much about it."

"Just tell me they haven't thrown him away."

"Not at all. We won't rest until we help him; you have my personal promise on that."

"Good. Good. Now you're telling the truth." She looked out the window and sighed. "I knew something like this would happen."

"He's a strong man, he'll be all right."

"Of course he will. I have no doubt about that. But no mother wants her children hurt." She turned to Dave. "Do you have children?"

He settled into the chair nearby. "I did."

* * *

**BAU Headquarters  
Quantico, VA**

"What's all this for?" Morgan asked, looking at the paperwork that covered a spare table in Hotch's office.

"The Senate oversight committee," Hotch replied.

"They haven't let go yet?"

"After what happened with Doyle and Foyet? No." He sighed. "That's why we have to be careful about following the rules right now. One slip-up and they'll defund the unit. Then we'll all be reassigned."

"After all the good we've done?"

"Their collective memory is all of five minutes long. We need to stay together and keep helping Emily and Easter. Quietly."

"I just hope Reid understands when he gets back."

"He will."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 07**

**BAU Headquarters  
Quantico, VA**

**Early August 2011**

"So how was play rehearsal last night?" Morgan asked as he stirred his morning coffee.

"I don't have play rehearsal." Garcia replied. "I couldn't this year."

Morgan opened his mouth to ask why not, but he already knew. "Yeah, I know."

"It just doesn't seem right to be happy when he's going through...I mean I know we don't know what he's going through but we see so much..."

"I know."

"Can you even heal from this sort of thing? I mean really?"

Morgan sat in the spare chair in her lair. "Baby girl," he said in that quiet way he spoke when he was serious. "I did."

"Ohhh, I didn't want to say..."

"I know. And I appreciate that. He'll make it. He'll heal. He'll come back stronger than ever."

"You really think so?"

"I know so." He leaned in to peck a kiss to her forehead.

* * *

But Penelope Garcia couldn't help it. She was worried.

She had three brothers, step-brothers really, all older than she was but close enough to be real, true compatriots over the years. And then there was Derek Morgan, closer than even a brother but still older-brother-ish. But she'd always wanted a younger brother. Someone who seemed close to her age, but just a hair off, someone she could actually go out and play with without them wanting to appear older and more sophisticated like older brothers were wont to do.

And then she met her junior g-man.

He was always up for the real fun stuff. FanCon, he was there. Circus, he was there. Country Fair, he was there. Trip to the zoo just because it was warm and they had the best ice cream, he was there. Scary movie night, he was there. But it wasn't just that. Needed help painting your apartment purple? He was there. Someone break up with you? He was there. Stuck in the hospital after your date shot you and you couldn't sleep? He was there, all night if you wanted him.

Spencer Reid was not only the smartest man she knew, he was the kindest, gentlest, most loyal, most honorable man she knew. He was the little brother she'd always wanted. She loved him as such and would love him forever.

Unfortunately there had never been that romantic spark between them, but that was okay. She just firmly believed he deserved to find the perfect person and fall head over heels in love. And whoever she was, she'd better know exactly what a wonder she was getting and she'd better treat him the way he deserved. Or else she would feel the Black Queen's wrath.

Only that wasn't happening. No, he was all alone out there, cold and hungry and they were...were...

She picked up her phone and dialed a familiar number. After four rings it went to voice mail. This is _Dr. Spencer Reid..._

It was not the first time she had done this. It would not be the last. "Okay, Spencer, you have been missing for nine weeks now, and I just want you to know that we have not given up. We are keeping that candle going so you can follow it home from the sea just like a lighthouse like old time sailors used to follow to the shore. I know you're all alone right now but you are not alone because we're there with you and we are coming after you and we are not going to give up. So don't you give up either! You stay alive because we're going to find you and we are going to bring you home!"

By the end she was sobbing, but the space for the message ran out.

* * *

A week later Garcia's phone rang just as Morgan was bringing her tea. She turned to her desk and suddenly started pushing buttons. "Spencer! Oh my god! Where are you?!"

"I have no idea!" Spencer's oh so familiar voice came out of the speakers. "A harbor somewhere I think. We passed under a bridge; I thought I'd try for a signal."

"Keep your phone on! I will trace you and we will send people out there to get you!" Okay, go, go...

"I'll keep it on as long as I can. I'm completely exposed here, if the guards see me I'll have to shut down."

"Keep it on as long as you can." She was typing furiously.

"Hey kid." Morgan called out. "How you doing?"

"Morgan! I'm fine; they haven't laid a hand on me."

"What?"

"They're holding me here to derail the investigation." There were angry voices in the background, male, not speaking English. "You have to keep looking in to..."

They heard a gunshot.

The sound of the phone clattering to the ground.

"Reid?" Garcia called out.

"I'm okay!" He called from a distance. "The..." But there was a crunch as the phone died.

Morgan let out the breath he'd been holding. "Tell me." He begged.

Garcia looked at her screen, turned back to him with tears in her eyes. "Somewhere in Asia," she said. "There wasn't enough time." Morgan turned and threw a punch into the wall in frustration. "He said he was okay." She said, her voice and eyes filling with tears. "He said they hadn't laid a hand on him."

"I know baby girl. We have to hold on to that. At least now we know where to start looking."

* * *

"Which investigation?" JJ asked.

"The human trafficking gang," Dave replied. "We were in the middle of that when you three were taken."

"So that wasn't about us?"

"No. We were close to something. Close enough for them to risk a direct attack on a police station and kidnapping FBI agents."

"If that's the case, then who didn't matter." Morgan said. "They just wanted whoever they could get their hands on."

"Where did we stop with the investigation?" Hotch asked.

"We were looking at missing college kids in Wilmington, North Carolina." JJ said.

"All right. We know this group only wants women, let's focus there." Hotch said.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 08**

**BAU Headquarters  
Quantico, VA**

**Late August 2011**

Three weeks later they had "Nothing." Morgan said with a sigh. "That's the last missing girl. She's shacked up with her boyfriend in Rhode Island." And it was not his job to fix her drug problem.

"So we have six missing, likely to the traffickers." JJ said. "But otherwise nothing stands out."

"Nope," Andi said. "They all fit our victim profile. Caucasian, girl-next-door, estranged from their parents, under a lot of stress, easy prey. There is nothing to indicate why this group went hunting in Wilmington instead of spending more time in Boston or New York or DC."

"Yeah, but there has to be something that stands out. Why else would Spence tell us to look here."

"We're close to something, but for the life of me I have no clue what."

Hotch walked in the room. "We have to go back to our usual case load." He announced.

Not what anyone wanted to hear. "Why?" Morgan said.

"I just came from a meeting of the oversight committee. They're insisting that we turn the trafficking case over to Andi's team and move on."

"We have an agent out there!"

"And not a good reputation in those cases," Hotch faced Morgan's anger with calm. "This is a direct order."

Morgan threw himself back into his chair with a huff of disgust. "They have the power to defund us and break up the team." JJ said.

"Don't worry guys; we've got your back." Andi said. "Between us and Emily's team we'll get him home."

* * *

But having faith was getting really, really hard for Penelope. As she had so many times she ended up leaving a condensed version of the day's events on voicemail. "...and I feel like crap because we went all out for Gideon and for Hotch and for Emily but we're not for you because politics and that is totally unfair. But we are going to find you, we are not giving up. And when you get home I am going to make brownies with walnuts and blondies with chocolate chips and pecans, just like you like them and I am going to put them in a bowl with vanilla ice cream just for you. I promise. Just keep living so I can."

When the space ran out she hung up and started crying for him.

* * *

They caught Doyle in the first week of September. He was lurking outside Declan's school. "You weren't even looking for me." He said. "Why do you care now that Emily's dead?"

"Because you killed her," Morgan replied.

"Revenge? I hardly thought it like you lot."

"Just wait."

* * *

Two weeks later they were coming in from another urgent case when Garcia came running from her lair. "They found them!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 09**

**Carrier Strike Group Twelve**   
**(Incorporating HMS _The Lady Elizabeth_ and**   
**USNS _Comfort_ )**   
**Lat 27.877928, Long -49.050294**   
**In the Mid-Atlantic**

**September 2011**

"One of the ships attached to the _Theodore Roosevelt_ spotted them." Emily said over the link. "It wasn't much of a battle; they only had small arms on board."

"Have you heard anything more?" Hotch asked.

"They're doing a casualty count now. The NCIS officer in the strike group is working with us. We're waiting..." Just then one of the crew handed her a note. "Okay, NCIS is saying that none of the victims were injured in battle...they found forty-four women being held and two men."

"Okay, crossing everything, crossing everything..." Garcia said in the background.

"They haven't identified them yet?" Hotch asked.

"He said they have a fingerprint reader. You should get it as soon as I do."

They waited...

And waited...

And waited...

The first readout that came up was an unknown.

"That's weird." Emily said. "No missing person's report?"

"No records at all." Clyde replied, "Could be from outside the more westernized nations."

The second was a very familiar face.

They collectively let out a groan of relief. Emily was grinning as the crewman passed her another note. "Okay, they're transferring all the victims to the _Comfort_ and she's heading back to Norfolk. We're going to go meet her now."

"Keep us posted." Hotch said. But he was smiling as he signed off.

"It's him?" Clyde asked.

"It's him." Emily's grin hurt from its size. Reid was safe. Reid was coming home. They could all go home and heal. And they had a lot of healing to do.

* * *

Nothing is ever close at sea. Over this crazy summer she had learned the actual size of the world, something that still amazed her even now. So it was a few hours before they caught up with the _Comfort_ and her support group. When they got there she practically ran up the dock and into the ship to find the NCIS officer. "What can you tell me?" She asked.

"Agent Reid and Dr. Pettigrew claim to be uninjured." The NCIS officer said as he led her into the ship. "They deferred treatment, told us to take care of the women first."

"That sounds like Reid. Dr. Pettigrew?"

"The other male victim; his fingerprint didn't come back, but he said his name is Ashton Pettigrew, originally from Charlotte, North Carolina. He said he went missing from Wilmington, he was a student there."

That blew their other country theory. "Then why didn't his print come back?"

"No idea."

Wait a minute. "I thought this crew only took women?" She said to Clyde.

"There's your outlier." He replied, "Might want to share with your people."

"Yeah, I..." She came out on deck and stopped. Stopped so hard Clyde ran into her.

She knew Reid. Intellectual. Nerdy. Shy. Not good with women. In all the time she'd known him she only known him to go on one date, with that girl in Atlanta, which had not gone well.

Maybe this was why.

It was Spencer all right. His hair was too long again. He was wearing his glasses. And he had an honest-to-god beard going, which did not suit him at all.

A beard didn't suit the man he was kissing either.

Seriously kissing.

They were tucked into a corner, well out of the way of everyone bustling about the ship. The man Reid was with was wearing the same baggy grey clothing as the rest of the victims but it was easy to see that there was a man under there. When the kiss broke Emily could see that his body language spoke of resignation and fear, and Reid's spoke of reassurance and comfort as he held him.

"What?" Clyde asked.

"Five years, not a clue." She shook her head. "That man keeps better secrets than I do. Reid!" She called next, getting his attention. But it wasn't until he turned to look and the blood rushed from his face that she remembered. Riiiight. "You're not hallucinating, I'm not dead."

"Emily!" A heartbeat later he was there and pulling her in, or being pulled in, to a very comfortable, familiar embrace. But after a heartbeat he pushed her back. "JJ and Ashley..."

"Are safe, the man who bought them was undercover Interpol. They were out of danger that night."

He let out a long sigh of relief. "Wait, you're not dead?"

"No, I'm not. I..."

But his eyes had that twitchy look, like connections were snapping together faster than anyone could imagine. "Wait. Phone," he said, his hands fluttering with urgency. "Garcia."

"Um, yeah." She pulled out her sat phone and dialed.

But he took it away before it was answered. "Did you find him yet?" Garcia asked.

"Garcia!" Reid all but jumped in his urgency. "I need you to get everything you can find on Ashton Pettigrew, 27, currently a student at Trinity Seminary in Wilmington, North Carolina. Before that Boston University including their school of medicine."

"Reid!"

"Type! Type!"

"Okay, okay, I'm running my searches now. They're running."

He let out a long breath of relief. "Thank you."

"What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I'll...tell you later. I'm fine, I swear. I'm...hungry."

"Well, go eat something!"

"I will. And I'll call back. Soon. I promise."

"You better."

Garcia hung up and Emily took her phone back. "Reid, what's going on?"

"I...can't..." His eyes twitched as he mentally backed up. "You're alive."

"Yeah. It was the only way I could safely heal and go back after Doyle."

"Oh, of course. Why are you here?"

"Mission drift. We thought Doyle was on that boat, we were able to get JJ and Seaver off and then we re-directed the task force after you."

"You've been out here looking for me for...three months now?"

"Yeah."

"Just you?"

"No, we had the Navy out, Interpol. Andi Swan's team has been working with us."

"But not the team?"

"Um, it got political."

"Oh. Yeah, I understand."

She had to wonder if he really did, but he looked...fine. Which could mean fine or it could be Dr. Reid's impressive poker face. "Good. So, um, who's your friend?" She nodded to the young man sitting on the space under the stairs and obviously not watching them.

"Ash? We've been cell mates since, um, about two weeks after I was taken. He's, um..."

"Special?"

"Yeah."

"Why the quick look up?"

"Long story. And not one we can resolve until we hear what Garcia finds."

"Oookay." He was being evasive, not something he did well. "Can I meet him?"

"Yeah." Spencer said. He went to get his friend but paused a moment. "Really shy." he warned, quietly. Then he went and after a moment's convincing he took the boy's hand and brought him back. "Emily Prentiss, Ash Pettigrew."

Boy. He was 27 from what the NCIS agent said, a grad student going for his second, just the age and demographic she'd see for him. He just looked so young. "Hi." Emily said, "Nice to meet you. Sorry about the horrible circumstances..."

"That's all right." He had a soft voice, sounded as young as he looked, with a bare trace of an accent. "Spence says that happens a lot with the work you do."

"We do seem to be at higher risk of mayhem. Are you okay? Do we need to get you in to see the doctor right away?"

"No, I'm fine. The women on the boat need medical care right now."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Wouldn't mind a shower though."

"And food." Reid added.

"We can manage that. Come on." Emily led them off to find the NICS agent.

At least Reid looked happy.

* * *

Later that evening Penelope got a phone call from an unknown number, "Behavioral Analysis Unit, Penelope Garcia speaking."

"Are you really going to make me blondies _and_ brownies?" asked a very familiar voice.

She couldn't stop the grin that nearly split her face. "Spencer! Yes, yes I am. And homemade ice cream too."

"Promise?"

"Of course! Any anything else you want?"

"Even chicken and dumplings?"

"A whole pan just for you." She sighed. "Are you okay? Like really okay?"

"Penelope, I know what you're asking. No, I was not raped. I was not tortured. I was beaten once, and to be honest Hotch did a more thorough job of it. I was not sleeping out in the rain; I had a roof over my head and a bed, even though it wasn't a very good one. I even had a bathroom I could use and soap."

"Okay. It sounds like it wasn't that bad." It wasn't great but it didn't sound that bad. He didn't sound broken.

There was a long pause, and then. "It wasn't all that good."

"What happened?"

"I can't talk about it here. I'm not sure..." There was a long pause "Did you know about Emily?"

"No." She replied. "And neither did Morgan or Rossi. Hotch and JJ kept us completely out of the loop."

"Did they fight to come after me?"

"Yes. Well...it got really political. At least they kept saying that."

"Did they look into the human trafficking case?"

"Some, mostly it was Andi. Morgan kept trying to fight them on it but it never helped." All of a sudden Garcia had a thought. "Do you trust them now?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't know If I can."

"Do you trust any of us?"

"You. Morgan. Rossi. I just don't know if I can trust Hotch or Emily right now. Or JJ. And not just because of what he and JJ did. I may need your help with something when we get back."

"Anything." Anything she could do to help her little brother get through this. Anything.

"I think if anyone can help you can."

"I'll give it my best."

She heard the warm smile come back into her little brother's voice, "That I can trust."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Aboard the USNS _Comfort_**   
**Lat 27.877928, Long -49.050294**   
**In the Mid-Atlantic**

**September 2011**

"...come back as soon as the _Mahan_ is free." Emily was saying. "She's faster than the _Comfort_ and all things considered the Captain wants us on shore as soon as possible."

"You don't need the medical facilities?" Hotch asked.

The NCIS agent had commandeered a small conference room for them to use for a video call. The team was in the round table room back at Quantico. "No." Emily said. "I made Reid get checked out, the doctor said he's fine, told him to eat more dessert. And yes, that includes any sign of sexual assault." She smiled as the entire team let out a breath they had been holding. "Apparently the guards threw a few punches when he made that phone call but he said he had worse in high school. Otherwise they never touched him. And I'm not seeing any major psychological issues either."

"So why did they keep him?" Morgan asked.

"Garcia, what have you found on Ashton Pettigrew?"

"Ashton Pettigrew, 27, originally from Charlotte, North Carolina, BA in philosophy, an MD in psychology with a concentration in human sexuality from Boston University, is completing his Doctor of Philosophy with a concentration in Theology at Trinity Seminary in Wilmington and works part time as a short-order cook at Shirley's Diner. No indications of anything bad in his background at all. His boss reported him missing ten months ago. Why?"

"Do you want the professional or the personal reason?"

"Start with the professional." Hotch said.

"Reid said that he suspects that Ashton's father contracted with the trafficking ring to have him kidnapped, and likely contracted with them to kidnap an FBI agent to derail the investigation long enough to cover up the evidence. He said the proof might be buried in Ashton's electronic records somewhere, he just didn't know if we got to them in time."

"Nothing...is...jumping...out...at...me." Garcia said. "His driver's license photo is glitched though. That might be evidence of tampering. I have a copy of everything for the genius and I will continue to dig."

"Who's his father?" Hotch asked.

"That's the problem." Emily said.

"Uhhh, yeah." Garcia agreed. "His father is Ronald Pettigrew, the junior Senator from North Carolina."

"The same one who sits on our oversight committee along with Cramer," Dave said.

"Yeah, that one."

"We're gonna need an airtight case to even start investigating that." Morgan said.

"And I'm not seeing one here."

"Ash said he wasn't willing to press charges without some kind of evidence to back up his story. Without it it's his word against his father's."

"So we just let this go?" Morgan asked.

"Without proof the only people we know were involved are the trafficking gang."

"Now that I don't like," Morgan said. "Why would Ash's father do something like this?"

"Have you looked at his voting record?" Dave asked in reply. "Homophobia is a good place to start. A gay son must be embarrassing as hell, especially since the rumor is that he's been on the list for potential VP for the past year."

"Yeah, but he wouldn't be the first politician with that problem." JJ replied. "Most of them just cut their kids off."

"Andi and her people are still down there. I'll ask her to look into it. Discreetly," Hotch said. "She might be able to find something. Did Reid say anything more about it?"

"Ash is too scared to say much right now and Reid is respecting that, he's not going to be helping us on this one."

"Why not?"

"Conflicting interest."

"Conflicting interest?" Dave asked. "Is this the personal you were talking about?"

"Yeah. Right now Reid and Ash are in the shower. Together."

For a long moment it was so quiet you could hear the monitor hum. They all slowly turned to look at her.

She nodded in a way that made it clear that she knew what they were all thinking, and they were right. "Yeaaaah." She said. "That. Mister touch-averse has been throwing PDA all over the ship. And Ash is coming back to DC with us and staying at Reid's apartment."

"You're kidding me." Dave said.

"Nope. Trust me, I have seen the schmaltzy love in the eyes thing, these two have it worse than JJ and Will."

"It could just be part of the trauma." JJ said.

"Could be but I don't think so. Either way, right now it's very real, for both of them."

"What's he like?"

"Ash?" Emily considered, "Quiet, which may be an introvert or may be nerves. Shy, which may be uncertainty in a difficult situation or may be trashed self-esteem. He utterly refused to see a doctor, was about to go off when I pressed."

"He was on that ship a long time." Dave said, "Without any training or prior experience. He could have more trauma issues than Reid would."

"And Spence could be in way over his head." JJ added.

"We'll have to watch for that." Hotch said.

Emily looked over at someone. "Okay, we only have a couple of minutes left with this link...oh...speak of the devil."

She moved aside and Spencer Reid sat beside her. He looked like his hair was damp and he was freshly shaven and had clearly borrowed someone's spare clothes. But he looked good, he was healthy and smiling and carrying a small bowl of something with a spoon in it. "Hi!" He said to everyone.

"Good to see you coming back." Hotch said. "How are you?"

"I'm all right. Did anyone contact my mom?"

"I've been keeping in touch with Dr. Norman." Dave said. "Call her when you get back."

"I will. Thank you. What day is it anyway? Did I miss Halloween?"

"No, thank god." JJ said. "There would have been hell to pay for that one."

"Awesome. I'll bring ice cream over when I get back."

"I'll hold you to that."

"We need to get off the line." Emily said.

They said their goodbyes and closed the channel. "I thought we were profilers." JJ said.

"We're not supposed to profile each other." Hotch replied.

"Which is good because we stink at it," Dave replied to that.

"Okay, this explains Lila Archer." Morgan nodded. "This explains it."

"Lila Archer? The actress?" Dave asked. "Her name has come up before."

"She was part of a case we worked a couple of years before you came back." Morgan replied. "That woman...wait." He pulled over his tablet and looked up a picture of Lila in a very slinky gown. " _This_ woman was all over Reid, I mean all over silver platter, and he walked away."

"Well, if I'd have known that..."

"And another." Morgan turned to JJ. "Didn't you two go on a date that one time?"

"Oh..." Put on the spot JJ sat back and considered, her memories clearly visible on her face. "You know, that explains a lot."

"See."

"Is this going to be a problem?" Hotch asked.

"Not with me." Morgan replied, the others nodding in agreement. "I just want the kid happy."

"Oh, I can see him happy here." Garcia said. "Ash got into college at 17, runs a couple of support groups in the area although I'm not certain on what, subscribes to magazines on cooking and homemaking and taking tea, has a very well used library card, a My Fitness Pal account that lists cycling as his favorite workout, a Netflix cue full of horror movies and a Spotify account full of classical and modern jazz. If I'd had any idea Reid was into boys I'd have set him up with this one."

"There you go." Morgan said, "If he finally figured this out then good for him. I won't even give him a hard time about it."

That they all laughed at. "Yes you will." Garcia said.

"Yeah, but no more than I would give him if he got a girl. But you know that makes this Ash kid part of the family, are we really not going to go after his father for doing this to him?"

"Whatever this is?" Garcia asked.

"Sometimes politics get in the way of justice." Hotch said.

But if we're right then Ash is going to be estranged from his parents over this." JJ replied. "Observing them together might be telling. Has anyone formally told the Senator that his son has been found?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Home of Sen. Ronald and Mrs. Mazy Pettigrew  
Washington DC**

**September 2011**

"Our son is returned to us." Mazy Pettigrew said. "Praise the Lord."

"Thank you for coming all this way to tell us Agent Hotchner." Senator Pettigrew said. His smile was happy and satisfied. "Do you have any idea when he'll be arriving?"

"Not precisely. The USS _Mahan_ is bringing them back to Norfolk, we don't have a time of arrival, but I'm sure someone at the DOA should know in the morning."

"Of course, of course. We'll have to go meet the ship, show him a proper homecoming."

"I'll make a special supper." Mazy said. "Pick up some barbeque ribs and potato salad and make a sweet potato pie."

"Ohhh, that's my favorite." The Senator's voice dripped anticipation. "That's the good stuff there."

"Are those his favorites?" JJ asked.

"Oh we love them." Mazy replied. "We should invite some friends over, have a bit of a celebration."

"That's a good idea!" The Senator said. "The Wentworth's, of course, and the Birnbach's, maybe Todd and Mary from the committee..."

"What about his friends?" JJ asked.

Mazy looked like the question caught her by surprise. "Oh, well I wouldn't know who to ask."

"You never filed a missing persons report on your son." Hotch said. "Did you know he was missing?"

"We have been...estranged from our son for quite some time." The Senator replied. "We didn't actually know he was missing. You know, sometimes college students fall in to bad crowds. We've been praying for him and it looks like our prayers have been answered."

"Bad ideas. Are you referring to your son's homosexuality?" JJ asked. It was a gotcha question and it got him. The Senator's face fell. He looked betrayed and angry, but they sensed it was the wrong kind of anger. Too sudden, too hot. "You didn't know."

"My son is not gay." The Senator replied. "That's silly nonsense." He looked over at his wife who had withdrawn into herself, her smile shrinking and tightening. "Our son is a good Christian. But all men are born to sin, right now his behavior is not as it should be."

"Do you think his kidnapping could be related to his sexuality?" Hotch asked.

"I have no idea." The Senator looked down and away, showing the lie for what it was. "It wouldn't surprise me, that sort of lifestyle, you know what it can lead to. Drugs. Falling away from your family. Depression. Self-harm. I'm just glad he hasn't taken his own life." He opened his arms and let Mazy in for reassurance. "It would not surprise me if this did come from him falling in with a bad crowd like that."

"But now he's on his way home." JJ said. "I'm sure he'll find a safe place to land here."

"Of course he will." Mazy replied.

"And you can help him find his way."

"We will continue to pray for him." The Senator said. "Help him see the truth and become the man...the...the son God wants him to be for us."

They asked a few more innocuous questions and took their leave. "Thank you again." The Senator said. "I'll be sure to tell Bob Cramer about the good work your people have done here. A group that can close a case this effectively deserves our full support."

"Thank you Senator." Hotch smiled and shook hands and kept quiet until they reached the end of the driveway. "I think I need a shower."

"No kidding. This case is closed, here is your reward for dropping it." JJ said. "They didn't know he was missing for nearly a year, don't know his favorite foods, don't know any of his friends, and didn't know he's gay. Narcissistic much?"

Hotch nodded. "They think of him as an extension of themselves, not as his own person. He lied when he said that he didn't know if the kidnapping had anything to do with his son's sexuality."

"You think he knew?"

"But he was expecting to hear something else. You shouldn't have said anything."

"We needed to see his reaction."

"Still. His base is at the extreme end of the conservative spectrum, a gay son would not reflect well on the campaign trail." Hotch replied. "Wasn't he put on the short list for VP about the time Ashton was reported missing?"

"Less than two weeks before. Take him and convince him, whatever it takes. Don't bring him back until you're certain. It makes sense." JJ looked back at the house. "What do you think he'll do now that he knows it didn't work?"

"Whatever it is Ash is still a target."

* * *

**BAU Headquarters  
Quantico, VA**

"We asked Andi to look into Ashton's personal life, discreetly." Hotch told the assembled group, which included Emily over a conference link from the _Mahan_ and Andi Swan.

"From what I could tell Ashton wasn't well connected with the campus community." Andi said. "It seems like everyone knew him but no one there was close to him. It looks like he was closest to his employer, Shirley Packer. She owned the diner where he worked and rented a studio above her garage to him. Unfortunately she died four months ago. Heart attack. I spoke to her son Darren, he never met Ashton but he said his mom always spoke highly of him."

"Was he a part of the LGBT community on campus?" JJ asked

"He was. He ran a couple of support groups for the center here but they're stonewalling on giving us those notes, they want a court order. We tried looking outside the area, found that he was also running a support group in town and got the same stonewall."

"That's interesting." Dave said. "What are they hiding?"

"Not a clue yet. We spoke to his teachers and the employees and some of the regulars at the diner. They all said he was conscientious, hard working, friendly, all around great to work with. No sign of any kind of trouble but he made amazing pancakes. Apparently some of the regulars were questioning of his sexuality but he never talked about it directly with anyone."

"So he was a quiet kid still mostly in the closet." Morgan said. "Keeping his head down and staying out of his parent's way. But why would his parents suddenly turn on him."

"The VP slot." Dave replied. "They expect you to nail down every loose end for something like that. Even living the quiet life he was still a loose end. If he refused to be nailed down they might have decided to take it to an extreme."

"Assuming it was his parents and not just the traffickers." JJ said. "He fits their victim profile, an estranged loner."

"We have to be open to that as well." Hotch replied.

"Any chance of getting a hold of his computer?" Garcia asked.

"According to Darren Packer after Ashton had been missing for three months he and his mother packed up the studio and the Senator's assistant came down to collect it all."

"So Shirley Packer told the Senator his son was missing." Dave nodded. "His claim of not knowing was a lie."

"Which still isn't enough to tie him directly to the kidnapping." Hotch replied.

"No, but that is one seriously troubled family dynamic." JJ said. "I still don't understand what he was doing on the ship though, they only kept female victims."

"Whatever it was it was bad." Emily said. "This kid is acting like a serious trauma victim. He's terrified of seeing the doctor onboard, I don't think he's said more than three words to anyone, can't make eye contact and almost hides behind Reid whenever they're out of the guest quarters."

"And Spence hasn't said anything?" JJ asked.

"No, he said he wants to respect Ash's boundaries. He's going to formally ask to be taken off the case when he gets back to avoid the conflict, that's why he's not here."

"That's appropriate." Hotch nodded his approval.

"Did he say what Ash's reasoning is?" JJ asked.

"He said he's afraid of his father."

"Okay, tell me Spencer is not taking all this on himself." Garcia said.

"No. He's not even considering it. He said he wants the time to find the best people to help him."

"I'll help."

"He was hoping you would."

"Why does he need a bigger apartment?" Dave asked.

"He lives in a studio." JJ replied. "He sleeps on his couch."

"You can tell him for me he'll need medical and psychological clearance before we let him back." Hotch said.

Emily nodded. "He's already planning on it."

"Good."

"So it sounds like we don't have anything until this Ash kid starts to talk." Morgan said.

"Hopefully we can find a way to convince him that it's safe." Hotch said, and ended the meeting.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**September 2011**

But not ten minutes later it was part of the discussion again. "You outed him!" Garcia asked.

"We needed to see the Senator's reaction." JJ replied as she stirred her coffee. "So I brought it up. The Senator clearly didn't know before, it shows the depths of the narcissism there."

"But we are talking about Spencer's special friend here."

"So? Spence understands this kind of thing."

Garcia stared at her friend opened mouthed for a long moment, then took her tea and headed back to her lair. Unfortunately she didn't go alone. "Okay, baby girl, why do you look so upset?"

"Hotch and JJ outed Ash to his father, who apparently did not know his son is gay."

"Which means that's likely not a reason for his father arranging his kidnapping. That's a mark against his story."

"That's not the point! How would you like it if I picked up the phone right now and told your mother about Carl Buford?"

"I wouldn't." Morgan said after he thought a moment. "That would be one big betrayal of trust."

"Exactly! And that is exactly what they just did to Spencer and Ash and JJ acted like it wasn't even a big deal."

Morgan looked back and shook his head. "What the hell is going on with this unit?"

"You need to be more specific." Rossi said as he joined them. "That question is too open ended."

"JJ and Hotch outed Ash to his father." Garcia told him. "And JJ acted like it wasn't anything."

Rossi whistled. "That's something all right. And on top of what happened with Emily. It's also sloppy, the kid is accusing his father, they just added more fuel to a potential fire."

"Yeah! " Garcia said. "Now what do we tell Spencer?"

"The truth. Always. We don't break trust."

* * *

**Penelope Garcia's apartment  
Washington DC**

Later that evening Penelope curled up on her couch and called a now familiar number. "Hey." She said.

"Hey." Spencer replied.

"I want you to know something. No matter who you love we love you."

Spencer was quiet for a long moment. "Thanks." He said. "That means a lot."

"Is he wonderful?"

"I think so. I think he's amazing. He's sweet and gentle and smart, quiet. Great to talk to, we can sit and talk for hours." He had this softness in his voice, the kind you got when you talked about someone just that special. "I can't wait for you to meet him."

"I want to. But you do know you two have been through an awful lot, which could be affecting the way you feel about each other."

"I know. We need a lot of time right now. We want to work on it together though."

"Yeah, that's good. There's something you should know."

"What?"

She took a deep breath. "JJ and Hotch outed Ash to his family."

After a long pause Spencer groaned. "That makes things more difficult. A lot more difficult."

"I'm sure it does. But why specifically?"

"Part of what happened involved a crude form of conversion therapy."

"So they knew."

"They didn't know it didn't work. Now we're going to have to deal with that." She could practically hear the wheels turning in that head of his. "I think we can, but it's going to involve a lot more than I was expecting. I wanted to spare him any more pain, but now..."

"I am so sorry." Oh, wait a minute. She just thought. "You said they didn't hurt you. Did they...?"

For a long moment all she heard was shaky breathing. "It might have been easier if they _had_ hurt me. We learn how to cope with that sort of thing. But...it's not fair."

"Oh Spencer..." The one thing harder for anyone in the BAU than being hurt, the one thing almost impossible to bear, was someone they loved being touched by the evil out there. "No, it's not. It never is. That's why he doesn't want to see a doctor on ship, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Oh god. Please tell me it can be fixed though."

"Hopefully It's going to take time. Now I just have to make some."

"I'll help. Morgan and Rossi will too."

"I know you will. I'm grateful for that,"

" And you tell him that since you love him I love him, no matter what."

"I will."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Main receiving dock**   
**Norfolk Naval Station**   
**Norfolk, VA**

**September, 2011**

As they had expected the area was crowded with families waiting to welcome their loved ones home. The BAU team hung off to one side, not wanting to interfere with the homecoming. "You'll note the lack of a Senator." Dave pointed out.

"What do you think his excuse will be?" JJ asked.

"My son is so terrible if I showed up he'd just make a scene. Better to stay away and risk him upsetting all of these families."

"We should see them together at some point." Morgan said. "How they react to each other could be telling."

"I agree." Dave replied. "I'm just glad it's not here and now."

The ship docked, there was the usual fanfare, and people started disembarking. They waited and waited, until finally... "There they are!" Garcia called out.

Emily came down first, obvious in her INTERPOL windbreaker, her go-bag on her back and her arms full of file boxes with the case. Spencer followed, looking as healthy as he usually did, wearing an NCIS windbreaker and balancing a box on his hip. And last in line was the NCIS officer from the ship, also carrying boxes. But it was the man clinging to Spencer's hand that got their attention.

They hadn't realized he would be so _pretty_.

He looked like what you might get if you tossed Spencer and JJ in a blender. Or if they had a child and the genes lined up really, really well. Morgan called Spencer 'pretty boy' because he always said the younger agent was pretty enough to be a girl. This man was prettier. He was an inch or two shy of Spencer's height and slender enough to share his wardrobe. He was wearing a hat that nearly covered any hair he might have but what poked out was a very pale blond. Of course his eyes were blue.

And he couldn't meet theirs.

Spencer dropped the box and went straight to JJ. "I was so worried." He said as he hugged her tight.

"So was I." She replied. "They buyer was Interpol. He scared the crap out of me and Ashley but we're fine."

"Good. I am so glad." After that it was more hugs all around, even Hotch got one.

It was Garcia who broke the ice first. "Are you Ash?" She asked.

He'd been looking around like he was looking for someone. Now he nodded. "Did my parents come?" He asked in this soft, gentle voice.

"No, we haven't seen them."

He relaxed a little at that. "That's for the best."

"I'm Penelope. Did Spencer tell you about us?"

"Oh yeah." He looked at the assembled group. "You're his family."

"Which makes you family too now. Can I hug you?" For a moment Ash looked startled at the suggestion, but after a moment he nodded, and collected his hug. "We're glad you're home."

* * *

**Spencer Reid's apartment  
Washington DC**

With everyone welcomed home they split up, Hotch taking Emily home, JJ taking the case files back to the office, and Garcia, Morgan and Dave taking Spencer and Ash back to Spencer's apartment to clean up before heading to the office. "It suits you." Ash said.

"Hotch said we can borrow his air mattress." Spencer said. "I'll take it tonight, you get the couch."

"I'll take the air mattress. You take your bed."

Spencer frowned at that. "It's not going to be that comfortable. I know, I know, more comfortable than an Iranian hospital bed. Just take the couch. Did anyone clean out my fridge?"

"Yes, I did. Tossed all the perishables." Garcia said. She turned to Morgan and mouthed _Iranian hospital bed_? He shrugged in reply.

"The bathroom and closet are in there." Spencer nodded. Ash headed in that direction, closing the door behind him. Spencer turned back to the group, a wide-eyed plea on his face. "The outed him? What were they thinking?"

"Apparently JJ did before Hotch could stop her." Dave shook his head. "She's been acting more and more like a loose cannon since she came back. And Aaron and now likely Emily are mired too deep in politics to be trusted right now."

"So what do we do?" Morgan asked.

"They manipulated us so that Emily would be free to go after Doyle. I hate to say it but I think we might have to manipulate them right back to go after Pettigrew." Dave turned to Spencer. "Are you sure it was him?" Spencer was quiet a long moment. "Look, kid, I know trust is running really thin on the ground right now. But we need something to work with."

Spencer sighed. "Ash has a specific medical condition secondary to being a cancer survivor."

"I looked into his records, I didn't find anything medical." Garcia said.

"I suspect his father may have had his records tampered with, to hide evidence of previous treatment. His father was the only one advocating for a very radical form of treatment. Ash wanted to pursue a more conservative approach recommended by his medical team that was against his father's wishes. Two weeks after he was taken he was given the first operation in the more radical treatment plan."

"Iranian hospital bed?" Dave asked.

"They actually have some of the world's best specialists for that sort of thing. They serve pretty much the entire Middle East."

"And you're sure he's had it?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah, apparently the traffickers didn't get the not-that-kind-of-doctor memo. I was given the task of nursing him after his final surgery, including changing his dressings."

"Oh my god." Garcia said. "That is like worse than rape. Can it be...fixed?"

"I don't know."

"Who else would the father have gone to to talk about his son's medical condition?" Morgan asked.

"Ash said he talked everything over with his pastor."

"And given how much this must have cost likely also his campaign manager." Dave said. "Going after the senator directly would not be the best plan, but some discrete digging into the financials and communication from both of those might turn up something. If we could show money going to the traffickers or a doctor in Iran we'd have something to go on."

"Oh I am totally all over that." Garcia said. "You said there was something like conversion therapy involved?"

"That was supposed to be the last stage of treatment but they got to us just as it was starting. They expected me to show him what to do with one of the other victims. I have never been so happy to be in the middle of a fire fight."

They got a laugh out of that one. "That means you need to get Ash safely out of the way." Dave said to Spencer. "If the Senator or someone supporting him paid as much as this would have cost they're not going to leave it alone until the job is done."

"I'm down with helping with that." Morgan said.

"Ash said that there's only one surgeon in the country who can work with this sort of thing at this point. She works out of UC San Francisco."

"Wait a minute. Everything we do is going in front of the committee." Morgan said. "How do we get around that?"

"I got a guy who owes me a favor." Dave said. He smiled and started laying out the plan.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

**Spencer Reid's apartment  
Washington DC**

**September 2011**

"There's only one problem with that." Spencer said. "They kept Ash out there for ten months. He was undergoing treatment the entire time. It could take up to a year and a half for his medical condition to resolve at this point."

"Do you have to stay out there the entire time?" Morgan asked.

"No. We should go out for an initial consult and the first operation, which should be a minor one. He should be clear to travel no more than two weeks after that. At that point medical treatment begins, which will last anywhere from six to twelve months. After that there are two more surgeries, one of which can likely be performed here but the other will have to take place in San Francisco. And it will take two months recovery before he'd be clear to travel."

"And there's no guarantee it will work?" Morgan asked.

Spencer shook his head. "The first one will, and the one here as well as the medical treatment. But they won't know about that one until they start, there was a lot of damage done."

"Damn."

"And at the moment he's terrified. He's afraid that it won't work and he'll have to live with the damage the rest of his life and he's afraid that if he doesn't act the way his father wants him to in public he'll try to kidnap him again."

"That is a totally understandable reaction to trauma." Penelope said.

"I know. But at the moment he's so depressed about it I'm honestly worried about suicidal ideation."

"Therapy." She said. "Therapy."

"I know. That's what I'm thinking, we can come back but if you include therapy it might be better if we just stayed put so he can stay with the same therapist for the duration."

"I can work with that, don't worry. Moving to the other side of the country and disappearing for a while might be enough to get his father off his back." Dave said. "Or if not his campaign manager."

Spencer considered this. "That might work. And hopefully with that much distance I can at least get him to relax at home."

"Then you can help get the kid what he needs." Morgan said. "And I'll have your back. And yours momma."

"While I get this thing cracked." Penelope blinked. "Wait, San Francisco?"

"Um, yeah, why?"

"We're gonna be roomies!" She pulled out her phone and started texting.

"Um, not sure that's the best idea..." Spencer said.

"Don't worry lover, you two can have the master." Morgan replied.

Spencer turned bright pink. "That's not exactly..."

"It will work out." Dave said. "Now let me go call my friend and we can put our plan into motion."

"Okay, I got us a house." Penelope said, coming back.

"In San Francisco?" Spencer asked.

"Yep. It's the house where I grew up; it belonged to my mother's family. I couldn't bear to sell it after my folks died but then I had to move out to DC so I worked with an agency and turned it into a vacation rental. It's empty now and they can move around the bookings so we have a place. Four bedrooms, three baths, a big kitchen..."

"Sounds good to me baby girl." Morgan looked over at Spencer. "We've been talking about your boo, how are you doing?"

"I'm hanging in there. But, to be honest some vacation time and some therapy would not be amiss."

"While you're out there you can do that too." Dave nodded.

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

Their first stop was Penelope's lair where the file was waiting. It was moderately thick, but Spencer settled down and started making short work of it. "What are you looking for?" Penelope asked.

Ash was waiting in Dave's office, where the senior agent was acting as a buffer for now. Spencer settled on an empty desk and put the file in his lap. "I suspect that the Unsub was trying to re-create Ash's identity by altering a key line in every file related to him. I'm hoping that he missed at least one document somewhere so we have a point from which we can dig out the original files. Although I'm not entirely certain how he'd do that to begin with."

"Why didn't you say so?" She turned to her computer and started typing. "I would start with a virus, let it spread out until it finds everything related to him and changes whatever needs to be changed. Which would explain why his fingerprints didn't read at first, the virus was working. And it might explain why his ID picture was glitched."

"His appearance has changed substantially since he was taken. I suspect we weren't supposed to go back for another month at least, they hadn't had a chance to take a new one. They were probably waiting to run the virus until they had a picture but when word got back that we had been found they had to run it anyway."

"So the old one glitched when it couldn't be replaced." She kept working and working.

In the meantime Spencer went through the records quickly. "No medical record?"

"I didn't find one. Which should have been a flag."

"Try the Dana-Farber Boston Children's Cancer and Blood Disorders Center."

"Seriously? Right, you said cancer survivor. All right. All right. Nope, nothing."

"Try the Wilmington Health Network?"

"Errr, nope, nada."

Spencer looked pissed. "They _erased_ his entire medical history."

"It looks that way. Hopefully you can get hard copy."

"Hopefully."

* * *

In the meantime Dave finally had a chance to sit down and talk to one Ash Pettigrew. He'd put on a plain t-shirt, dug a faded CalTech hoodie out of the depths of Spencer's closet, and had pulled the hood up, all the hallmarks of someone wanting to just disappear. Dave brought in mugs of tea. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"I'm sorry?" Ash asked in reply. As he sat up to accept the mug he pushed the hood back, allowing Dave to see pale blond hair that had been chopped off at one point, and that was so thin he could see patches of scalp.

"How are you feeling? Spencer mentioned something about medical treatment. But he didn't go into detail."

"I'm hanging in there I guess." He smiled into his tea. "Anxiety and depression are side effects of the medication. Also of the trauma, it could be either one."

"And hair loss?"

Ash raked his fingers through his hair, easily dislodging more than a few strands. "That's the meds."

"You should stop taking them."

"I can't. The delivery system is implanted." He managed a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Easier for them I suppose. I plan to have the implants out and go on the correct replacements as soon as I can."

"Good. He said you are a cancer survivor?"

"Oh. Yes. Ependymoma actually, not that it matters. Brain cancer. When I was five. I had surgery, radiation, I suppose I was one of the lucky ones, it's never come back."

"You are."

He was quiet for a long moment, looking off into the distance. "You know, I've counseled people with this. I thought I understood just how alien they felt inside their own skin. I was so wrong about that."

Spencer had also said something about suicidal ideation. Dave didn't want to let this boy wander off down paths that were too melancholy. "Psychology and then theology. That's an unusual combination."

"My specialty is working with members of the LGBT community who have suffered religious or spiritual abuse. At least that's what I'm going for. But I realized once I started working with people that I needed to know a lot more about theology and church history. And I needed a change of scenery. And North Carolina has a much bigger patient pool than Boston. And, um..." He thought for a moment.

"And?"

"I think I wanted my family to see how well I was doing. I was finally independent of them, getting proper treatment even though it left me poor as a churchmouse, and happy. I was truly happy there for a time. I wanted to rub their noses in it a bit." He took a quiet sip of tea. "I have to wonder now if that decision led to this."

"Probably not. Once an Unsub fixates there's little you can do so long as they're free."

"Spencer explained that term. Is that what my father is? An Unsub?"

"That's what we're going to find out."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**September 2011**

Of course a debriefing had to happen. "So how did you two meet?" JJ asked. "And what happened to you, specifically?"

"After you and Seaver were taken off the ship we sailed another twelve days." Spencer said. "I played a lot of solitaire and profiled the crew, which was not really that interesting. On day twelve we stopped at a port and Ash was returned to the ship."

"He had been off the ship?" Hotch asked.

"Yes. Based on what he described I suspect he was held somewhere in Tehran, and that we were anchored in the Gulf of Oman. He'd been...we'll call it tortured. They didn't get the not that kind of doctor memo so rather than assigned a money making captive to nurse him back to health they gave me the job."

"Oh that must have been fun." JJ said.

"We spent most of the rest of the time playing cards while Ash recovered. I did get beaten up when I managed to call Penelope, but it was worse in high school."

"Which says so much about Vegas high." Penelope said.

"Nothing really happened until what turned out to be the last day."

"What happened?" Hotch asked.

"That was when they started trying conversation therapy, which involved one of the female captives. Thankfully the Marines stormed the ship just as they were getting started."

"The boys always did have impeccable timing." Dave said.

Spencer nodded. "After that it was over."

* * *

It was not as easy interviewing Ash. "I have no desire to talk to the police about any of this." He said. "It's over. I just want to move on."

"We want to find the person who did this to you." Hotch said. "We want to bring them to justice."

"Justice isn't possible for me now."

"We want to make sure they won't harm anyone else."

"If I thought there was a risk of that I would help you."

"Dr. Reid indicated that you thought your father arranged your kidnapping." JJ said.

"I believe he did, yes. But there's no proof of that. I don't think the word of a theology student is going to stand next to the word of a US Senator."

"Dr. Reid also said something about conversion therapy..."

"They did try that, and it did not work, and now my father knows that thanks to you people. Right now I just hope that if I can convince him that I mean to move away and stay out of his campaign he'll stick with praying for me and not try kidnapping again."

"We can protect you." Hotch said.

"You can't even keep your mouths shut. And if my father gets a hint that your team is trying to help me he'll have Bob Cramer break you up so fast you'll land dizzy, assuming he doesn't just have your jobs. Given that I think you all have a conflict of interest and I'd come out on the short end of it. No, I think I'm better off taking care of myself. You have the Russians. That ought to satisfy the committee nicely." He stood up to go.

"Wait, if you're moving away what about Spence?" JJ asked.

"Oh, now you think of him? As far as I'm concerned that's not your business. Good afternoon, both of you." And with that the interview was over.

* * *

About an hour later Hotch made his weary way back to the conference room. "I just stopped Reid from leaving the Bureau." He told them all.

"What?" Emily asked, reflecting the shock they all felt.

"I don't see why you're so surprised." Dave replied. "He's been through a lot the past few months. And you all put him through the wringer before that. It's a classic trauma reaction."

"But he seemed fine!" JJ insisted.

"I convinced him to take leave instead. As a PhD he can take up to a year's sabbatical. He's taking it." Hotch said.

"No." JJ got up and headed down to the locker room where she found Spencer cleaning out his things. "I get it, okay? You're disappointed with the way we handled Emily."

"Because this is all about you, right?"

"You know what I think it is?"

"What?"

"You're mad that Hotch and I controlled our micro expressions at the hospital and you weren't able to detect our deception."

"You think this is about my profiling skills? Jennifer, listen: the only reason you were able to manage my perceptions is because I trusted you. I came to your house for ten weeks in a row, crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth."

"I couldn't."

You couldn't, or you wouldn't?"

"No, I couldn't!"

"Why not? Did you even think to inquire about my security clearance? Did you or Hotch even bother considering going through channels?"

"No, we..."

"Was that whole sham of a counseling secession you and Hotch's way of finding the best way to manipulate us?"

"No!"

"Tell me something, what if I had started taking Dilaudid again? Would you have let me?

"You didn't."

"Yeah, but I thought about it." He finished throwing things in his bag. "I'm going away for a while to deal with all this. I'll write to Henry so he knows it's not about him."

"Why can't you work on it here?"

"So you can share my private business with everyone again? Trust goes both ways Jennifer." With that he left.

But Emily stopped him at the elevator. "Look, Reid, I know you're mad at us because we didn't tell you what really happened, and I understand that. But I promise you, we had no choice. You mourned the loss of a friend. I mourned the loss of six. This whole thing gave me an ulcer. Please don't give me another one."

"Ulcers are caused by the _Helicobacter pylori_ bacteria." He replied. "I recommend a course of antibiotics, preferably clarithromycin and amoxicillin along with a proton pump inhibitor. And you didn't lose us, we were right where you left us when you chose to go after Doyle on your own."

"I didn't want you to get hurt."

"So you made the one choice that would hurt."

"I knew there would be consequences."

"And this is one of them." He turned and got in the elevator.

"Where are you going?"

"The same place you went. Not here." And with that the doors closed and he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some dialogue taken from Criminal Minds episode 07x02 "Proof". No copyright infringement intended.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI Building**   
**Quantico, VA**

**September 2011**

The next morning it got worse. "Reassignment?" Hotch asked.

"To a task force," Strauss told him. "Agent Morgan and Ms. Penelope have unique skills that are needed. "I'm told it shouldn't be for more than three months."

"That's leaving us very shorthanded."

"Mr. Lynch can cover for Ms. Penelope, he has before. And you've been down by two agents in the past, yet you still managed to accomplish the mission. I can arrange to have Agent Seaver transfer back if you need the bodies."

"No. No, I'm sure we'll be fine. When do they have to report to the task force?"

"As soon as possible; they should pack and head over now."

"I'll let them know."

As Strauss was leaving she ran into a familiar face in the hallway. "I hope you know what you're doing David." She said.

"Don't worry Erin." Dave replied. "A magician is helping to make it work."

"I can't believe you two are leaving." JJ said. "We are going to be so shorthanded!"

"Nobody ever said life was fair momma." Morgan replied. "Hopefully we can get this thing wrapped up in a couple of weeks, then we'll be back."

"What is this thing?" Emily asked before she shook her head. "Let me guess, you can't tell us."

"No. But I'm still working on that trafficking case for you." Penelope said. "I can multitask, you know this. I'll keep poking at their computers remotely. I'm sure we'll find something."

"Okay." With that there were hugs all around.

* * *

**Billy Goat Tavern**   
**500 New Jersey Avenue NW**   
**Washington DC**

In the meantime Spencer and Ash were working the plan. They'd bought Ash some jeans that morning and some t-shirts. Plain ones, as Ash said, it was less complicated. After that they had bought lots of boxes sized for books, the most useful size, among other errands. They spent the afternoon working with them, to the point where when it came time to knock off for dinner neither wanted to cook, so they went to the burger place right around the corner. "A little dry." Ash said about the burgers.

"Your burgers are better?" Spencer asked.

"You know it." He replied with a smile.

Just then two men in expensive suits sat at their table. Spencer immediately had his guard up. "Um, I'm sorry. This table is taken." He said.

One of them gave him a patient smile. "Ash, we need to talk." He said

Ash sighed. "I knew this was going to happen. This is John Dalton, my father's campaign manager. I'm afraid I haven't met the other."

"Mark Follows. I work with Senator Preston."

"The Senate Majority Whip," Spencer nodded. "I'm..."

But Mr. Follows interrupted. "We know who you are Dr. Reid."

Uh oh. "Are you here on behalf of the committee?"

"No, to be honest we don't give a damn about Cramer's witch hunt or what you do with your personal time. No, we're just here to welcome Ash home."

Ash looked Mr. Dalton in the eye. "Did you know about this?"

Dalton openly looked the younger man over and smiled. "You're looking good Ash. Your father was right, the new look suits you."

"You son of a bitch," Ash replied.

"You knew." Spencer confirmed.

Dalton only smiled more broadly. "The Senator is happy to have you home, more or less, although you are breaking his heart here." He looked blatantly at Spencer.

"You go to hell." Ash replied.

"Okay, enough with the family crap." Follows said. "We just wanted to say we're glad you're back safely and to find out if you need anything, moving forward."

"No, you're afraid I'll go on Oprah. Or Maddow. Or become the Grand Marshal of the Pride parade. Or something else that will scare the base away from my father. " They watched the blond head shake. "Right now I'm thinking about heading out west for a time. No cameras out there."

Follows nodded, "A chance to get away, rest up and heal far from the stress of DC. Sounds like a splendid idea. What can we do to help?"

"Keep my father, my mother, their pastor and anyone else in their circle well away from me. And that includes Mr. Dalton here. Do that and I can pretty much guarantee I'll be 'resting up' until the election."

"I'm sure your family will be far too busy to head out west for a visit anytime soon." Follows smiled the kind of smile that said that they understood each other and he was happy with that understanding.

"Are you going to break your father's heart any more than you already are?" Dalton asked.

"By going back to my old...look?" Ash asked.

"What does it matter what the kid looks like?" Follows asked, clearly confused.

"You know your father's feeling on the matter." Dalton said in a way that made it clear that he did not agree with them. "He does love his...son."

"I know. I'm sure the rest of the world would find his feelings on the matter fascinating as well. Am I going to have to share it with them?"

"What am I missing here?" Follows asked Spencer

But Spencer shook his head. "No idea." He said with a deliberately innocent smile. "I'm on sabbatical."

"What's it going to take to keep you from distracting your parents?" Dalton asked.

"Keep them too busy to look at me and I won't draw their attention."

"Not good enough." It was a threat.

And Spencer and Ash knew it. Ash took a deep breath. "They won't find me that distracting."

"Good." Dalton smiled. "You should have dinner with your parents before you go. Show them how...non-distracting you are now. They'd love to have their boy home for barbeque."

The anger in Ash's eyes flared. "Don't push it." He tossed the remains of the burger on the table and stood to go.

"All right. This will have to do." Dalton pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture.

"Hey!" Spencer said in that pissed cop voice he so rarely used as he stood as well.

But Follows stopped him before he could get to Dalton's phone. "Go out west, on sabbatical or whatever. Your father will be too busy to visit, I guarantee it. Personally."

"Or call, or write, or e-mail, or any other form of direct contact." Spencer said. "Use my e-mail from work if you need to leave a message." That would leave a paper trail.

And Follows knew it. "Right. We'll do that. Have a good trip." Spencer knew a dismissal when he heard one.

As they walked away from the tavern Ash seemed to crumble. "I told you." Ash's voice was full of tears.

"This will work. Come here." Spencer pulled Ash into his arms and held him a long time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

Even as Morgan and Penelope had packed up and gone from the BAU Spencer and Ash had been working the plan.

On that first day, with Ash's help, Spencer had packed what he needed for a year away, and set the rest of his apartment up in storage. Per Bureau policy he'd receive full pay during his sabbatical leave so long as he was working on something at least related to law enforcement. That check would be automatically deposited, and then automatic payments would cover his rent, utilities, Bennington, and so on.

But with his DC paycheck keeping his DC life going they would need funds to live on for the next year, and funds to cover Ash's medical expenses, so on the second day they flew to Atlantic City.

For the next few nights they slept in a different hotel every night. Ash spent the time holed up in their room, by choice, savoring room service, reading, making things and staying out of a world that felt so alien to him now. And Spencer played blackjack and poker; very deliberately not doing any one casino group too much damage.

Three nights and $250,000 later they flew to Vegas.

Here Spencer couldn't gamble. Card counting without mechanical or other assistance was banned in Vegas, although it was allowed in Atlantic City, so they didn't even let him stay in a hotel with a formal gaming floor. But that wasn't the point of the trip. He spent a day and a night with his Mother, telling the one person who would believe them without question what had happened. She believed, insisted on meeting Ash, loved her son's love at first sight, and gave them both her blessing.

The next day they flew to San Francisco. There they met up with Morgan and Penelope. The latter two had packed up their own things that second day, set their apartments for storage, and loaded everything they needed into a rented trailer. They hooked it up to the back of an SUV, bought gently used for the trip with the first of the Atlantic City winnings, put Clooney in the back, and had road tripped it across country. Another SUV would be purchased here in Cali in the near future. When the time came for them to go back Penelope and Morgan would take Clooney in one car and drive back to DC. When Ash was done with treatment, they would pack up another rented trailer and drive the other back with the gear. At the far end one would be sold and the other would become Ash's personal vehicle.

They arrived in San Francisco on a Saturday. Dave was scheduled to fly out the next day, and would return the DC Tuesday morning, to continue the deception. He would fly out only when necessary, most of the time he would video conference.

And that was how one half of the BAU assembled on the other side of the country. "Have you gone in yet?" Penelope asked.

"No, we just left our bags in the garage. It didn't seem right. That Indian place over on the corner is great." Spencer said

"Isn't it? And you see the coffee place across the street? They're the ones who roast that blend for the police department here, the one you liked so much when we came out for that case..." Penelope chuckled as Spencer's face lit up.

"Great." Ash said. "At least he'll be back in time for breakfast."

The house was a three story Victorian, sunny in reds and yellows and white trim. Penelope marched up the stairs and unlocked the door while Spencer and Morgan started unloading the car into the garage. Morgan looked up at the banners hanging off the light poles. "Rainbow flags." He said. "How close are we to the Castro?"

"You're in it." Spencer replied. "The Castro Theater is two blocks from here."

"My kind of neighborhood," Ash said with a rueful smile. He did seem to relax a little when he heard that.

"So you're saying that if I meet any hot hunnys within walking distance I probably shouldn't try to bring them home." Morgan said with a grin as he stood up from the trunk with a box in his hands.

"Oh, you can bring me home, honey." Catcalled a man walking by.

Spencer and Ash nearly fell over in laughter.

"Okay, mental note, must buy you a straight ally shirt. I have a flag I put in the window, just because tradition and all. In my grandparent's defense they bought this house back when this was Little Scandinavia. That said, the community is amazeballs, I come out here every year to vacation my brain with good people and no Unsubs." Penelope got the door open, revealing a warm and tidy interior. "Okay, the attic is my room because it's always been my room and I never even rent it out. There is a bedroom and bathroom behind the garage with its own entrance, Morgan my love I suggest you take that one so you can bring home company if you want it. Spencer, you and Ash get the master on the second floor. It's been completely cleared out and set up for the rental, so no emotional entanglements there. And there is a smaller bedroom and bath on that second floor that will do well for a guest room. We'll save that for Dave."

"Which way is the kitchen?" Ash asked.

"Straight back," Penelope said. "Given that it's an eat-in and the dining room has doors I suggest we set that up as a conference room since we are technically working and all."

"I suggest switching the living and dining rooms, if we can." Spencer said. "That way we don't have to walk through the work space to get from one to the other"

"Ooo, better idea," Penelope replied.

"Sounds good to me," Morgan said. "We'll go move furniture. You want the gear in there?"

"Please."

He and Spencer moved the large board off the van and in that direction, while Ash made sounds of pleasure in the kitchen. "He's that hungry?" Morgan asked.

Spencer shook his head. "He worked in a diner, remember? Short order cook."

"That's right." Once they settled the board Morgan craned his head around the corner. "Does that mean you're doing the cooking?"

"Most of it, when I'm not laid up," Ash replied.

"I don't mind that." Morgan went back to get another box as Spencer stopped to answer a call.

And he crossed paths with Penelope, bringing one in. "Okay, here's a question, why did a PhD go to work in a diner anyway?"

"It's a great place to become part of a community, improve organizational skills, learn to think on your feet, and um, learn to cook." Ash replied.

"You're looking better." Morgan noticed.

"I'm a continent away from my father." The younger man replied. And the next time I see him I will have undone everything he's done to me. It's really going to happen." His eyes were shining.

"Yes it is." Spencer put his phone away. "We have an appointment with Dr. Bowers Monday at 1."

Ash's grin grew wide and he curled up with happiness. "Yes!" He said, practically throwing himself into Spencer's arms.

"Okay, I know it's not politically correct to say so but that is going to take some getting used to." Morgan said.

"Maybe not as much as you think." Spencer replied. He turned to Ash. "Not asking with any pressure, but are you ready to tell your story?"

Ash looked Morgan and Penelope, took a deep breath, and nodded. "After dinner I'll tell."

"Can you give us a preview?" Morgan asked.

Ash looked to Spencer for reassurance, found it, and took a deep breath. "I'm a woman."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

After that announcement they decided to order Chinese for dinner. And put off actually unpacking as much as possible. No one wanted to wait longer than that to hear the story.

"Okay, I know it's horribly rude to ask." Penelope said as they settled around the living room. "But...transsexual?"

"I was born a girl, I've always been a girl, I always knew I was a girl." She said. "When I was five I was diagnosed with brain cancer, ependymoma. I did surgery, radiation, chemo, they were able to get it all. I've been in remission so long they consider it cured. But when I reached puberty something went wrong."

"What happened?" Morgan asked.

This was harder. They watched her flush and swallow and take a deep breath. "I started developing...differently; male secondary sex characteristics instead of female ones. My voice started to drop and I started growing facial hair and my breasts didn't develop and my period never really got underway. A few other things as well but you get the idea."

"Virilization is not an uncommon side effect of certain cancer treatments in pre-pubescent female patients." Spencer said. "It results from damage to the hypothalamus during treatment. It usually doesn't present until puberty."

"My doctors said my hormones were out of whack, but I could take replacements and testosterone suppressants." Ash said. "I'd likely have to take them for the rest of my life, or at least until I was ready for menopause, but I'd be fine. I'd finish puberty as a woman and that would be the end of it. But our pastor said that hormone replacements were abortifacients, he convinced my parents of that so they refused treatment."

"So what did they do?" Morgan asked.

"My parents are not the most...normal of people. My dad can fake it at work but in private...they weren't able to have other children, as much as they tried. They'd been praying and praying for a son, and when they found out what was happening they decided that this was God's way of answering their prayers. They started trying to get me in to a gender reassignment program. I know that's hard to believe..."

"Not in this group." Morgan said while the others nodded. "We've heard a lot stranger than that."

She managed a little smile then. "No ethical program was going to take a thirteen year old, obviously. So I went without any help at all." She sighed. "I went to private Christian schools. My parents insisted the school list me as male, that I wear a boy's uniform, use the boy's restroom. They forcibly cut my hair. You name it. High school was rough. "

"I can imagine." Penelope said. "What happened when you graduated?"

"I got a full scholarship to Boston University." Ash said. "They refused to take me off their insurance so I couldn't get any other and they kept refusing to cover the cost of treatment. Granted in college it's rude to ask someone their gender, but it's not like you can show someone your genes or walk around without pants. Since they insisted I register as male and demand to be seen as male everyone thought I was a very effeminate guy."

"How could they insist on you registering as male?" Morgan asked. "You were an adult, you had to make that call."

"FAFSA. Free Application for Federal Student Aid. I had to fill one out to get my scholarship. That meant I needed copies of their tax forms and their signatures to go to college."

"It's like you have to have a permission slip from your parents to go to college until you're 24 or a grad student." Spencer said.

"That's how I ended up being interested in working with transsexual and intersex patients, I had the experience." Ash continued. "I finally reached the age limit for the insurance about the time I finished my dissertation. I had already decided to study at Trinity so I moved, started on HRT, and used every trick I knew to go stealth as female. Shirley, my boss, was the only one who knew outside of my medical team. She really understood, she helped me get insurance on my own at last." She smiled a little, reminding them that there was the grief of that loss too. "She never let anyone question my identity where she could hear. It was nice to not feel like a freak for a while."

"You're not a freak, sweetie." Penelope said.

Ash's smile grew a little at that. "After going back to visit a few times, only to have my parents rant at me about how I was contravening the will of God, I went full no contact with them. I was tired of hearing them and their friends call me names and tell me how terrible I was. I stayed in Wilmington and kept working through the seminary and the other schools in the area to counsel others. I even considered joining the clergy. I thought it might be the best way to help others who've been through this. But then one night I woke up to three men in my bedroom. I panicked and tried to fight, next thing I knew I woke up on the ship."

"What happened there?" Morgan asked.

"For the first two weeks, roughly, nothing. I watched what they did to the other women and kept waiting for it to be my turn, but they never went near me. Then one day I felt sick after eating and went to lie down, and I woke up in a hospital bed surrounded by people speaking Arabic."

"Arabic?"

Spencer spoke up. "In 1963, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini wrote a fatwa in which he stated that there was no religious restriction on corrective surgery for intersex individuals, though this did not apply to those without physical ambiguity in sex organs. In 1987 he issued a second fatwa that applied it to transsexuals as well so long as they live wholly as one gender or the other. As a result of this as of 2008, Iran carries out more sex change operations than any other nation in the world except for Thailand, only completely disconnected from the western medical establishment. And in Iran it's legal for a father to force an unmarried daughter to go through any medical treatment."

"And they could probably be convinced to work on a western patient if you threw enough money at the problem." Penelope said

Ash's eyes were starting to fill up with tears. "I was drugged most of the time. When I was taken back to the ship two of the women were placed in my cage to look after me. When I was finally clear of the drugs I realized they had...had..." She started sobbing.

"The first stage in female-to-male gender reassignment surgery is usually a full hysterectomy, including removal of the ovaries and fallopian tubes, and a double mastectomy." Spencer said as he rubbed Ash's back to comfort her.

"Oh my god," Penelope replied, her eyes wide.

"Then a minimum of six months of hormonal treatment using testosterone implants before the external genitals are reconfigured. I believe they meant to keep her at sea long enough to finish the treatment. Once that was done and with all of her records changed to male he was planning on the social pressure keeping her there."

"I really don't want to be a freak anymore." Ash said between sobs.

"You're not." Morgan said. "How do you fit in to all of this?" He asked Spencer.

"Like I said, they didn't get the not-that-kind-of-doctor memo. After we left US waters I believe we crossed the Atlantic and the Mediterranean to Iranian waters where we picked Ash up after the second surgery. Since they couldn't do anything else with me they had me nurse her back to health. We ended up sharing a cell for three months."

"The second surgery?" Penelope asked. "Do I want to know?"

"They performed what's known as a Centurion metoidioplasty." Spencer said. "After six months on testosterone therapy the clitoris has usually grown larger, adding up to two inches to its total external length. At that point the Labia majora are cut on the interior side and the round ligaments freed at their posterior attachment. The clitoral suspensor ligament is cut and the clitoris freed from the surrounding tissue and pulled to its maximum length, then the urethra is cut free and also pulled out to length. The clitoral body, urethra and labial ligaments are bundled together and wrapped in the former labia minora, which are cut free, retaining only their anterior connection. This forms a neo-phallus at the top of the pubis. Then the labia majora are sew together behind the phallus to form a scrotal sac, and filled out with implants. The final move is to sew up the new perineum, including sewing the vagina closed."

"I could have gone my whole life without knowing that." Penelope said.

"I've known female-to-male transseuxals who are completely accepting of the process and thrilled with the results. It brings their body back to what they know it should be." Ash said, "For me it's had the opposite effect."

"So they kept you out there long enough for the hormones to work." Morgan nodded. "Nice."

"Can this be reversed?" Penelope asked.

"Hopefully," Ash said. "I'm never going to get my fertility back, but then after cancer treatment it was unlikely anyway. But all the external parts are still there, they just have to be put back in their former places. That and a set of the right kind of implants," she looked down at her flat chest with a rueful smile.

"Actually the hormone treatments are the most important from a medical point-of-view." Spencer said. "Hormones affect so much of the body, from temperature to mood, getting those in line with her innate knowledge of who she is will be immensely helpful."

"That and presenting as a female," Penelope said, "Because you can now. Especially here, no one will even question it."

Ash shook her head. "Before we left some people came around to talk to us about it. They made it quite clear that if I distracted my father from the campaign there would be...consequences."

"Including a representative from the Senate Majority Whip's office," Spencer nodded. Yeah, like that.

"As long as I present as male and keep my relationship relatively discrete my father can believe he has a son. A misbehaving son, a son he needs to pray over, but a son who will return to the fold sooner or later. If I started presenting as a woman again he'd be...enraged. Given what he did last time I don't want to consider what he'd do now." Ash shook her head, the dull weight of fear in her eyes. "No, until you catch him outside of the house I'm presenting as male and staying out of sight and out of mind. I'm not going to risk it."

Penelope shut Morgan down before he could use the 'we can protect you' line. "That is a perfectly understandable reaction to trauma. You can always do the neutral thing, everyone wears jeans and t-shirts, right?"

Ash smiled as they understood. "That's exactly what I was thinking."

"But is that going to get in the way of your medical treatment?" Morgan asked.

Spencer shook his head. "It shouldn't. The only part that would be noticeable under clothing would be the results of the last surgery. That's six to eight months away."

Morgan got it. "Then it might not be a bad plan. But you won't have to do it for long, sister. We'll get the guy."

Ash smiled and took Spencer's hand. "I know you will."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Uhaul Moving and storage  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

The next morning they made short work of emptying the trailer and while Ash and Penelope went to stock the kitchen Morgan and Spencer returned it to the rental company. "Okay." Morgan started on the drive back. "Now that my baby girl is not here to kick me, are you or are you not gay?"

Spencer smiled. "Does it matter?"

"For us as friends, no; I just want you happy with your boo, kid. And not for us working together either."

"Then why?" Spencer turned and saw the expression on Morgan's face. "We are not supposed to profile each other."

"Aw just tell me if I got it wrong or not!"

Spencer started laughing. "This has been driving all of you crazy for days, hasn't it?"

"Will you just tell me!"

"How could you be so off with someone you know so well?"

"Reid! You're killing me here!"

Spencer had to catch his breath from laughing so hard, even dry his eyes, but eventually he could speak again. "No, for the record I am not gay. Demisexual, yes, and I don't think there's anything wrong with being gay, but I personally prefer women."

"Demi-what?"

"Demisexual. Demisexuals are characterized by a lack of sexual attraction toward any person unless they become deeply emotionally or romantically connected first. Demisexuality does not refer to the active restraint or repression of sexual desires or actions. It is an orientation that is not chosen. Or so says a certain psychologist I know."

"English?"

"The...hydraulics don't work unless I know someone really, really well, which is not to say I can't appreciate an attractive woman..."

"But you got to get to know them before you like to get active."

"Before I _can_ get active, literally, which can lead to embarrassing moments."

"You mean Lila?"

"Well, Lila almost worked. I mean..." Spencer looked at a billboard that was advertizing Lila Archer's latest movie. "...she does look amazing in a bikini. Do you remember that bartender, Austen?"

"Yeah, the little brunette. You went down for a date with her, how did that go?"

"Great, until the end of the night. She thought I was staying over and..."

Morgan winced. "Oh man..."

"Yeah. No, it does work, it's worked a couple of times more or less, but I've never been able to pick a girl up in a bar or do the whole hook-up thing."

"More or less?"

"There were a couple of times back in college..." Not that it had gone anywhere, but there had been this lab partner that Spencer had been close enough with that it would have had she been at all interested. But Morgan didn't need to know the current state of his virginity.

"Ah. That's okay. So long as you're happy with it."

"I am."

"And now I got a name for it to put in your profile." Morgan was grinning over that. "I no longer suck at my job. Thank you."

Spencer couldn't help chucking again. "Want to hear the one I have on you?"

"No, I do not." But Morgan thought of something else. "Is this what happened on that date with JJ?"

"I am not answering that."

"She went for it, didn't she?"

"No comment."

"And you couldn't."

"I am not going to confirm or deny that." That secret was _never_ being shared.

"All right, all right... So you've always known Ash was female?"

"Yeah. I had to help change her dressings, I knew she had surgery, and when I asked if she wanted it I knew she wasn't lying when she said no. And before you ask, looks don't really matter, personality does. She's really an amazing person."

"One you lived with for three months. I assume that means..."

"She can't right now. Or doesn't want to, it's too uncomfortable with the way she is."

"Yeah, but you..."

"...are counting days? Why?"

"Got to make sure my little brother is happy is all. We need to find a gym around here, help you work off some of that energy."

"I wouldn't complain. Although you're going to get flirted with if we do. A lot."

"I will take that as a compliment. But tell me, then why did you go along with the whole gay thing off the bat? Why did you keep referring to her as 'he'?

"Because of why we're here. I didn't want the Senator to know I know and I didn't know if word would get back to him." Trust was still an issue.

That brought the mood in the car to something more sober. "I can see that. Do you think this will work?"

"We'll know tomorrow."

* * *

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

After dropping off the trailer the two men ran a handful of errands. When they got home Penelope met them at the door. "Okay, if you get weirded out by this it's my fault." She said.

"By what?" Spencer asked.

"Well, this is San Francisco, and I figured that if there was any place where a girl could get a look at what the 'after' will look like it's here so we went shopping and it felt so good she decided to bring home some things to wear around the house. So if it weirds you out it's my fault."

"What did she bring home?" Spencer followed the smell to the kitchen.

Ash was at the stove in her usual t-shirt and jeans and apron around her waist, her feet bare and now sporting bright pink toenails. But that wasn't the big change. The big change was the tumble of pale blond curls that fell to the center of her back. She shook them over her shoulder when she looked around to see who was there, and revealed just enough make up to give her the healthy glow that she would soon have for real. "Hey." She said. "I'm just helping; Penelope said we're having chicken and dumplings for dinner." Then she turned and somehow she'd grown breasts since he left that morning.

Spencer felt his IQ drain down into his hydraulic system.

She noticed, of course, and started chuckling. "I thought looks didn't matter." She said lightly.

"Duhhhh." Spencer replied. Looks didn't matter, Ash was a beautiful woman based on her heart and mind, not on what she presented to the world. But he could appreciate external beauty when he saw it, and at the moment her outside was as beautiful to him as her in.

"Dayum," Morgan said with a grin. "Okay. Now I get it. Good work baby girl." He gave Penelope a kiss on her cheek as he moved past her to answer a knock at the door.

A moment later Dave joined them in the kitchen, just as Ash stepped lightly into Spencer's arms. "Someone want to fill me in?" He asked.

"We are not crap profilers." Morgan replied.

"Apparently not."

Spencer was too busy drowning in her kiss to hear the rest of the conversation. It didn't matter anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I likely should have cast the part of Ash in the last chapter. I point you to the search engine of your choice and the amazing, and amazingly beautiful, transgender model Andreja Pejic, both before:
> 
> http://i.imgur.com/pveaPNU.jpg
> 
> and after
> 
> http://blogs-images.forbes.com/natalierobehmed/files/2014/11/andreja-1410x19403111111111.jpg
> 
> her transformation.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

After dinner Ash and Spencer repeated their story for Dave's benefit. Then, after some comforting, Ash retired to the kitchen to do dishes while the team gathered around the dining table to discuss. "You're right." Dave said to Spencer. "Her father is the only one who could have logically done this."

"She didn't fit the victim profile for the traffickers." Spencer said. "The support groups who wanted a court order before they discussed their members were for transgender and intersex students. They discussed their member's medical histories. Between that and the people she knew at work she had a supportive community and her life was improving."

"And there was no sign that they had someone recruit her like 'Lucy' back in DC." Morgan said. "They just randomly grabbed her which doesn't fit the MO."

"And someone in need of medical care is a bad investment on their side." Dave said. "If it had been a random pick up it would have been more cost effective to use her until her body ran out, then dump her overboard. If anyone else had paid the money to have this done they would have kept her close by, not on the ship. No, this speaks to someone with a lot of cash to burn who didn't want a toy; he just wanted her out of the way until it was over. Her father is the top of that list."

"But wouldn't there be proof out there that she started out as a girl?" Penelope asked.

"If there is most people would assume female-to-male transsexual." Morgan replied. "It wouldn't be polite to say anything."

"And even if we dig out her psych and medical records there's no proof that her father was connected." Dave said. "We need to find some connection between him, the traffickers, or the surgeon in Tehran."

"I still don't understand why he would do this though?" Penelope asked.

"The members of his particular sect believe in a form of gender absolutism." Spencer replied. It relates back to Deuteronomy 22:5 The woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman's garment: for all that do so are abomination unto the LORD thy God. When they saw the virilization they figured that God was turning her male, likely in answer to their prayers. By doing this, encouraging that, treating her as male, requiring those around her to treat her as male, and now even this her parents honestly believed were doing the work God wanted them to do, and encouraging her to obey God as well because to go back to being female would have been sinful."

"Yeah, but being Trans is more about your head and your heart than your body."

"But to them appearance is the most important thing.  It doesn't matter what you're thinking or feeling so long as your appearance and behavior doesn't deviate from their standards, and by their standards _everything_ is gendered.  A woman cannot have even one point of her appearance or behavior be that which is assigned to men, and vice versa.  They couldn't return her to one standard so they forced her all the way to the other side of their strict binary.  They saw this as a loving act."

"Which makes her father dangerous," Morgan said. "Because she's still living in a form of sin, so his work is not done."

"Yes, but with the right mindset this is comparatively minor." Dave said. "It's a question of cognitive dissonance."

"In psychology, cognitive dissonance is the mental stress or discomfort experienced by an individual who holds two or more contradictory beliefs, ideas, or values at the same time, or is confronted by new information that conflicts with existing beliefs, ideas, or values." Spencer said "Leon Festinger's theory of cognitive dissonance focuses on how humans strive for internal consistency. When inconsistency (dissonance) is experienced, individuals tend to become psychologically uncomfortable and they are motivated to attempt to reduce this dissonance, as well as actively avoiding situations and information which are likely to increase it. Another part of it has to do with their level of psycho-social development; they're stuck at an early level of development which only allows them to understand the self in relation to others. I'm a father, for example, or I'm a son, or an American or a Christian, has concrete meaning to them, rather than being able to know and accept themselves as a separate entity."

"English, Reid." Garcia said.

"For example, the people around me are Christian and good people. I am good ergo I must be Christian. Therefore all Christians are good people and all good people are Christian." Spencer replied. "The people around me are gun owners and good people, I am a good person so I must favor gun rights. Thereby all good people favor gun rights and all people who favor gun rights are good people. The people around me are straight and good people, I am a good person ergo I must be straight. Therefore all good people are straight and all straight people are good. But what if one of those good people is gay, does that mean I am also gay? If good people can be gay and gay people can be good, how can you tell who the bad people are?"

"Wouldn't you just know?"

"That's the problem, they don't. They're stalled at a simpler, more basic level of understanding. This sets up cognitive dissonance which must be resolved. So the gay person cannot also be a good person."

"In practice this means that so long as someone doesn't set off the cognitive dissonance their sins can be overlooked." Dave said. "Remember, appearance is everything.  The problem is not what you do quietly in your bedroom; the problem is how you act in public. If you force them to acknowledge your difference _and_ accept you as a good person they react violently to the cognitive dissonance."

"So the problem isn't gay people." Morgan said. "It's gay rights. If everyone stayed quietly in the closet they'd be fine."'

"Yeah, but that's not fair." Penelope replied.

"No, it's not." Dave agreed. "But it's also not our problem. Our problem is Ash. By moving across country and agreeing to present as male she's putting the question of her sexuality out of sight and out of mind. Sure, if you press her parents they'll tell you that she's living in sin and they need to pray for her, but most of the time they won't think about it. Odds are if word got back to them that she, say, enrolled in school they would go on telling themselves that their son was going to school out in California, a perfectly bland, perfectly acceptable belief that causes no undue stress in their minds."

"But how did they get sex change out of this?" Penelope asked.

"The cognitive dissonance," Spencer replied. "In their minds you can't have both male and female characteristics. You can't have a vagina and facial hair. Progesterone and Estrogen can't be both a form of birth control they believe causes abortions and be beneficial medication. They leapt to the one solution that eased the cognitive dissonance, forcing her all the way to the male side of the binary. Unfortunately her father had the money and power to actually act on those beliefs."

"Now we just have to prove it before she gets to the point in treatment that she can't hide it anymore." Dave said.

"In the meantime we have to be careful of another problem." Spencer said. "Apparently it's easy for even experts to believe I'm gay."

"No offense." Morgan said

"None taken, I don't see anything wrong with being gay so why mind being mistaken for it. The problem is that so long as Ash and I are in a homosexual relationship he has to be presenting as male. To the Senator this has to be a good thing, her appearance and behavior are all the way on the male side of the binary."

"But a gay son is a bad thing." Dave said. "So how does he resolve that bit of cognitive dissonance?"

"Logically by insisting he's not. This is just a phase or a temporary sin. But the Senator has not exactly been following logical profiles."

"Let's hope this time he does."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

"It's not Body dysmorphic disorder." Ash said as she admired herself in front of the mirror. "And it's not Body integrity identity disorder and it's not Gender dysphoria, not really. But this is the first time I've recognized myself in the mirror in a very long time."

"Depersonalization disorder, caused by abuse," Spencer said. He crossed his legs as he sat on the end of the bed and watched her. This preening was healthy; he wasn't going to interrupt it, even if it was bedtime. "It's understandable; your body didn't match up with your mind. It's not psychosis though; at least I haven't seen you lose your grip on reality." He'd seen his mother lose her grip often enough to recognize _that_ one when he saw it. "There are medications..."

"Oh, I think I'll stick with good old CBT, thank you, although that has limitations." She turned to check out her backside in her jeans.

"Oh?"

"Cognitive behavioral therapy is supposed to help you become aware of inaccurate or negative thinking, so you can view challenging situations more clearly and respond to them in a more effective way. In practice it's become learning how to change your reactions to negative situations to ones of acceptance and tolerance, because the problem is always your thinking and your emotions around a situation." She turned and smiled. "Sometimes the problem really is the situation. Sometimes your thinking can be correct and your emotions justified and the _situation_ needs to change. For example, I think if I looked like this all the time I wouldn't depersonalize nearly as often." She looked at her backside again, the one gender referenced body part untouched by the surgeon. "I need to do more squats."

"Talk to Morgan, he's a gym rat." She had a point, a therapist would likely tell her that she was putting too much emphasis on her looks and falsely thought her father had more power than he did. The truth was that hormones were powerful and that imbalance needed treating, and her father obviously had the power and influence to do what he did. There was an external situation to take into account here, and it would fall to him to help her therapist understand that. "You're beautiful regardless."

"You always say that." But her tone said she appreciated it. "Still, do you like?"

"You know what I like?"

"What?"

"The light in your eyes that tells me that you like it; that's what matters." It did. At this moment she was supremely comfortable with her body, and very, very happy. And it made her radiant. "If this is how you want your body to be then we'll get it there."

"Mostly." She rubbed her hands over her backside. "More squats."

"When you go on hormone replacement your fat stores should shift to your hips and thighs. That will help."

"It did last time. But still, after all that time on the ship I am woefully out of shape."

"Like I said, Morgan." Spencer was curious about one thing. "How much of that are you wearing to bed?"

"None," Ash sighed and reached up and pulled her wig off her head, revealing her too short, too thin hair. "But Penelope came up with some ideas for that. I just need to go wash my face." She placed the wig on the new stand on the dresser and started pushing her jeans off her hips.

Once again the blood rushed out of Spencer's head as red satin underthings were revealed. "Uhhh..."

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. "It's called a cache-sex." She said. "Designed for cross-dressing men who want to hide what's down there. It was the most feminine looking jock strap we could come up with." When her black t-shirt came off, it revealed a very plain bra with silicone breast forms inside. "Until we deal with my father I won't be wearing this every day, but we found these which should disappear under a shirt." She reached into the drawer and pulled out a satiny red camisole to match the panties.

"Uhhh. Oh." That had been an ongoing problem. It had only been three months since her surgery, and for her everything felt so very wrong. But the only things they had found to help minimize distracting, uncomfortable, sometimes outright painful movement down there had been very masculine.

"Oh? Is that a good oh?"

"That's a remind me to bring Penelope some wonderful thank you gift at some point oh." Because Ash was always beautiful, but he knew her well enough for the hydraulics to work, and red satin set off her skin just so...

"Oh." Ash grinned and headed to the bathroom.

Spencer settled back on his side of the bed, rested his writing case against his knees, and finished off the day's letter to his mom. "Don't you have to 'tuck' with one of those?" He asked when he heard the door open again.

"Thankfully I'm small enough not to have to, because I'm not built for it." She replied. He could hear her moving about the bedroom. "And those things have a very soft lining, I'm really happy with the way they work. What do you think?"

"Good. About?" He looked up and found her in this white nightdress, complete with lace and ribbons, and a pale, knitted cap over her hair to keep her head warm. Penelope had clearly talked her into presenting as female in private. She looked delicate and willowy and...and..."Uhhh, ohhh."

That brought laughter as she climbed into bed next to him, and he reached over to turn down the lights.

There wasn't anything they could do. She was far too sensitive, still, to the point of pain if touched wrong, and then there were the psychological aspects on top of it. And he was not the kind to receive what he could not give in return, a gentleman simply would not. But as his lips found hers and she pressed her body to his he could feel the want there, the need there, the rising ache that would once again not be satisfied.

But they could ache for each other. That was theirs alone.

They fell asleep tangled together.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

The next morning Spencer watched Ash don lavender satin under things. He knew she shaved her facial hair in the shower; he'd had to show her how back on the _USS Comfort_. Now she did things to her skin that looked stereotypically female but that didn't seem to involve any color. For the first few moments of the day he was sharing space with a beautiful, reasonably confident woman. One who'd not slept well for nightmares, who was still emotionally labile and somewhat depressed, but one who was strong and in that strength he found beauty.

Then she pulled on men's jeans, a plain, dark t-shirt, socks and Converse, and a dark knit cap to keep her head warm. With the way she combed her hair, the way she stood with her shoulders curled in and her hands in her pockets, she looked exactly like a man in his early 20's. Her confidence and intelligence seemed to evaporate, leaving her looking young, shy, and vulnerable, and perhaps not a little submissive. In other words, exactly what someone like her father would find the ideal son, one he could manipulate at will.

"I'm sorry." Spencer said.

He was sitting on the end of the bed, legs crossed under him, chin resting on his upturned palms. Now she turned to look at him. "Why?"

If she was a true female-to-male transsexual assuming the presentation of a male would enhance her. It would make her feel more real, more alive, more fully herself. But at the moment she was closer to a male-to-female transsexual, and presenting as male diminished her. "Because it's not fair."

"And life is fair?" She settled on the bed next to him, crossed her legs like his. "How I look right now doesn't matter, does it? That's what you keep telling me."

"It's not about how you look."

"I know." She was quiet a long moment. "What if the doctor won't see me?"

"She will."

"What if she can't help me?"

"She can."

"You know what I mean."

He did know what she meant. This was not the first time she had asked him this. What if she couldn't be put back together again? "Then we do what we can and get you as healthy as possible. We'll get your hormones settled. That's the main thing."

"And then what?"

He knew what she needed to hear. "We figure it out. I love people, not bodies. And I do love you."

He held her for a long time before breakfast.

* * *

**FBI**   
**Northern California Division**   
**450 Golden Gate Avenue**   
**San Francisco CA**

"Oh crap."

Bob Macklemore, the Agent in Charge of the SF Field office, was an old buddy of Dave's. Dave had explained that they suspected Ash's father of having hired the traffickers to kidnap his son, of forcing unwanted medical treatment, of his father believing God wanted it this way. And he managed to do so without ever getting into the specifics of the treatment.

And then he told him that Ash's father was a senator on the BAU oversight committee. "Exactly." Dave said.

"So he's still watching you." Bob said.

"Not exactly." Morgan said. "Senator Cramer is still monitoring the team so Senator Pettigrew does see all of our activity logs, but Cramer is interested in what happened with Doyle, his focus is on Hotch, JJ and Emily since they were the only ones actively involved in that investigation."

"And you four weren't?" Bob asked.

Emily knew that our team was being closely watched by Doyle, with the exception of JJ who had been transferred to the State Department." Spencer said. "So to ensure that we wouldn't give away her secret by any misstep or facial expression they didn't let us into it. They told the four of us that she died."

"And they pulled it off?" Bob asked.

"They did." Dave said. "It wasn't easy, in a lot of ways. But the benefit is that the four of us were only under investigation because we were part of the team, not as individuals. Now we need to do to them what they did to us." Dave said. "Cramer, and by association Pettigrew, are watching the Hotch, JJ and Emily closely, so they need to be absolutely certain that the BAU is no longer working the trafficking case. They can't give any hint that Pettigrew and his people are under investigation. The best way to do that is to have these three leave the BAU so those three don't even become suspicious."

"But we need to be doing something else." Morgan said. "Something convincing."

"But you can't leave the Bureau, you need the resources." Bob was tracking. "So you want me to put you to work somewhere?"

"Say I've been put to work somewhere." Morgan said. "They think I've been assigned to a task force out here. Garcia and I here always work together, so long as I'm on a task force we can make it look like she is too."

"Say you've been put to work?"

"Ash and Reid are our only witnesses. Someone has to keep them safe. But so far there's nothing on the radar, if you need help I'll gladly jump in."

"I just need a room with network access." Penelope said. "And I'll help out too."

"We can do that. And what about you?" Bob asked Spencer.

"I qualified for Sabbatical leave." Spencer said. "I'm here to try to crack the Zodiac codes."

That set Bob laughing. "If anyone can he can." Dave said. "I'm the go between. I taught Aaron how to keep a poker face."

"Okay, this is making sense. But why me? Why here?" Bob asked.

"Ash needs medical care he can only get here. And I knew I could owe you a solid for this."

"This is true, you can." Bob looked over at Morgan. "You know anything about baseball?"

* * *

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

"Steroids in the Major Leagues huh." Penelope said. She was in the kitchen, taking a turn with the cooking after taking Dave to the airport. Now she smiled at Morgan. "That should be interesting."

"I'm looking at it as a working vacation." Morgan replied. "No racing the clock to save a life with this one. And I get to go see a few games."

"Sweet. Take me?"

"If you wanna go momma."

Just then Spencer and Ash got home. "Well?" Penelope asked.

"Dr. Bowers said she thinks the surgery can be reversed." Spencer said, his grin beaming. "She's taking Ash on as a patient."

"Yes!" That got hugs all around.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

"I'm scared."

Spencer was honestly trying to turn this into a sabbatical. According to the FBI, a sabbatical had to involve research pertaining to law enforcement somehow. He was taking the opportunity to finally have his turn at the Zodiac killer and his infamous codes.

Today he'd gone out to talk to some of the guys who first worked the case, content knowing that Ash really didn't need anything, and knowing that any cravings she might have could be acquired at the coffee house across the street or the bodega three houses away. But he'd come back when Penelope called to say that Ash was not okay, not emergently not okay (her words) but not okay. He'd come home to find the dinner Ash was supposed to cook being rinsed off and put in the fridge by a concerned Penelope, Morgan ordering take-out, and Ash hiding in their room. "It's understandable." He said to her. "Tomorrow is a big deal."

"It's not supposed to be." Ash replied. "It's outpatient surgery. An hour at most. Compared to everything else it's minor."

"Yes. But it also means being sedated and letting someone you barely know do things to your body." He watched her micro-expressions carefully, and saw the reaction of fear when he brought it up. "And at this point that is understandably frightening. Given that messing up a batch of fried chicken is not that big of a crisis."

She was quiet a long moment. "I really wanted you to taste my fried chicken. I do make outstanding fried chicken, or so say the regulars in Wilmington."

"You can make chicken next week. Garcia is saving it."

Ash groaned. "Oh, I shouldn't have snapped at her."

"She understands and accepted your apology."

"I guess terror makes me peevish. I cannot believe I forgot how to dredge chicken."

"There are worse things to forget. Morgan was ordering pizza when we came up. It'll be okay."

Ash was quiet a long moment. "You know, according to my therapist I'm in the outward adjustment stage of Rape Trauma Syndrome. She said making any major, long-term changes would be bad right about now. She thinks I should try to get comfortable in my body as it is before I go changing anything."

Spencer considered this. "We might need to try a different therapist."

"No, she's right. Or she would be if this was a normal case. I tried to explain to her that the first steps here were medical, not related to the trauma. I didn't run away to San Francisco, I'm not trying to change my appearance out of self-loathing." She was quite a moment. "At least not exactly."

"No, not exactly. Did she understand about your father?"

"No. She thinks I'm overestimating his reach and the reach of the people around him."

"We need to get you a different therapist. It's a rule that you always assume that the victim knows more about the perpetrator than you do. It's always better to be overly cautious."

Ash sighed. "And it's my body. I know why I'm doing this, to take back control of my body and my health. Deliberately. Consciously. I'm not saying trauma isn't an issue, but this is a conscious decision. I need to get a new therapist." She flopped back on the bed with a groan. "Doctor heal thyself."

It would be nice if she could work herself through this. But... "It's never that easy."

"Pizza's here!" Morgan called up the stairs.

"Are you ready to go down?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah." Ash sat up and snuggled in his arms a moment. "Thank you." She said.

"For what?

"For being you."

* * *

The next morning in lieu of breakfast Ash got a demitasse cup with two pills. She stared at it like it was about to bite her. "I know, it's scary." Penelope said. "But you're going to have an FBI agent watching you like a hawk the entire time. No one is going to do a single thing you don't want them to do."

"I know." Ash said.

"Dr. Bowers is even letting me into the operating room." Spencer said. "I'll be right there the entire time. Armed even."

Ash quirked a smile. "I doubt that will be _necessary_." She reached out, picked up the cup, took a deep breath, and chased them down with some water.

"All right, let's go." Spencer said with a smile.

"Shouldn't we wait for it to start to work..." Ash was still nervous.

"Nope. Morning traffic, they'll have plenty of time to kick in along the way. And I don't want to have to steer you down the stairs."

"I'll see you tonight sweetie." Penelope said with hugs all around before she headed out to work. "Hopefully I'll have good news."

"Hopefully."

* * *

A few hours later Morgan and Clooney were jogging back to the house just as Spencer was trying to navigate a very groggy Ash out of the car and back up the stairs. There was no way, so Spencer just swooped her up into his arms and carried her in. "Since when?" Morgan asked as he followed them up.

"Since I didn't have much else to do on the ship but work out." Spencer said. Before they'd left he'd made up a bed on the couch in the big bay window, now he laid Ash down there. "And Ash needed the encouragement to stay healthy." He started pulling off her shoes as she murmured something unintelligible.

"What did the doctor say? Whoa." Morgan turned away as Spencer got her shoes off and started in on the pants.

"It's okay. She's covered." Today's underwear was black and covered more real estate, closer to a small pair of shorts. Taking off her pants also revealed four small dressings on her abdomen. "Dr. Bower was able to get all the implants out. Now Ash can go on the right medication regime for her. Hopefully in about six month she'll be able to have the next round of surgery."

"Six months is a long time." Morgan said.

"I know."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

Six months is a long time.

Ashton Pettigrew woke up later that day. She was warm and cozy in a sunbeam, stretched out and quite comfortable on the couch. Something coming from the kitchen smelled tasty in a way things hadn't for quite a long time. And she could hear voices from in there, soft happy ones that made her feel comfortable and safe. It always shocked her, how many truly good people there were in this world. And how many she was blessed to know.

She hadn't been able to think this clearly in far too long.

But thinking clearly did not mean having energy. She was tired after this morning, which was understandable. Too tired, and as she moved too sore to yell across the house. Thankfully Spencer had left her phone near, she could just send a text...

He found her awake, holding her phone, about ten minutes later. "I thought you would be awake." He said as he dropped to sit cross-legged on the large hassock and put a mug of tea on the end table. "How do you feel? Penelope made mac-and-cheese, it should be ready in a bit if you'd like some."

"I would, thank you." She moved to sit up and hissed as things tugged and pulled. But with his help she got to reclining against the pillows, up enough to sip her tea. "That's going to be fun for a few days."

"The incisions are actually very small. They should heal fairly quickly."

"Good." She put her tablet in her lap and accepted the tea with a murmur of thanks.

"What are you reading?"

"My father's website." She was quiet a long moment. "It's interesting, the timing."

"Oh?"

"I am likely just being paranoid. Lingering effects of the implants. Although I feel clearer now than I have in a year. The last time there was this angry buzz, something like paranoia or panic or constantly on the edge of losing your temper that sort of ebbed away slowly when I started taking spiro. I didn't even realize until I read some old journals. Now it feels like someone threw a switch."

"That's the implants coming out. You took all of your testosterone away at once, instead of slowly building a blood level of the antagonist."

"I know. It's just remarkable. I can finally think clearly." She looked him over and took a deep breath. He was so amazing, she just hoped he would understand. "Which is why I've realized that I can't be Ash anymore. I need to be someone else." She smiled a little at the concern in his eye. "Which is not me developing a second personality. I do not have DID. At least I don't think I have DID."

"I would notice if you did, or were going that way. But what do you mean?" Spencer asked.

She considered this for a long moment, trying to order thoughts that could only now rise to the surface. He sat there, patient, gentle, curious but never demanding. She spared a moment to once again consider her blessings. "My parents never cared about my inner life, my thoughts or my feelings or my desires. What mattered to them was how I presented myself, my appearance, my activities, my behavior. I always thought that once I was an adult I could find some magic combination of traits they desired and traits I enjoyed, that reflected who I really am, that we could agree on. That I could find a happy medium."

"You don't think that anymore?"

"Well, we've seen what happens when I try to show some of who I am on the outside." She said. "At the same time they're raising the stakes, they're adding more and more details to who Ashton Pettigrew is supposed to be." She picked up the tablet and showed him. "I have a page on my father's website now. Ashton Pettigrew likes country and contemporary Christian music, low country barbeque and Tex-Mex food. He supports a number of major sports teams. His favorite authors are Jesus Christ, Ayn Rand, and William F. Buckley, Jr. He reads _The American Spectator_ and _The New American_ magazines. His favorite hobbies are hunting and first person shooter games. His favorite vice is beer. He hopes to adopt a dog soon. About the only thing about him that has any depth is that he is a committed, Bible-believing Christian who is becoming a pastor."

"And I'm assuming none of that applies?" Spencer asked with a smile.

"I like smooth jazz and sophisti-pop and modern celtic music, Asian fusion cuisine and diner food. I don't follow sports except for the Olympics. My favorite authors are Jane Austen, Garrison Keilor, Jennifer Chiaverini and Jan Karon. I read _Mother Earth News_ and _Victoria_ magazines. I'd like to learn to knit and quilt at some point, and I like to hike and cycle and run. My favorite vice is expensive chocolates. I'd like to have cats some day. And I'm considering visiting the Buddhist center around the corner. The only things we have in common are the same alma maters, the same degree and being cancer survivors."

"And, of course, he identifies as male."

"And there is that. At this point there is no way I can live the life of Ashton Pettigrew and be happy, so why even try. Let's just kill him off and be done with it."

Spencer frowned. "I assume you don't mean that in a literal sense."

She smiled. "No, I do not. I actually have a great deal of hope for the future, if I could get that person off my neck. I will never be 'him'; I will never be what will make my parents happy. And that is on them, not on me. I'm tired of trying. I'm quite done with them." She looked into her tea mug and sighed. "Is that so wrong?"

Spencer shrugged. "We deify biological parenthood in this culture. Basically if you don't use birth control and the female chooses not to abort they become somehow sanctified, even if they never do another thing for their child. I know my mother loves me; she tried her best to be a good mother even though she was ill much of the time. My father, on the other hand, abandoned us. I was quite done with him for years. Recently he tried to reconcile, but it amounted to 'I am your father. I deserve your respect'. I had to explain to him that he really did treat us like crap, and that biology in no way made up for that. If nothing else he owes me a sincere apology and honest amends, which he has yet to make. And your parents are a thousand times worse than he is. If you want to change your identity and say your family abandoned you I see no reason why you shouldn't. They have abandoned you, in favor of their construct. My only concern is that you might be trying to distance yourself from the trauma."

"Meaning it would take me longer to process through it." She looked into her tea and considered. "No, I think I could do more if I didn't have to worry about being Ashton every time I went outside. I could cry, actually. I think I might like to cry, very much. Ashton doesn't cry. He never did, even through chemo. He never makes a fuss like that."

"I think you should make a fuss like that." Spencer said.

"But don't kill him." Said Penelope from the doorway. She was standing there holding two bowls of mac and cheese. "I have a better idea."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

"This is why I love technology." Penelope said.

They had set up on the dining room/conference table, Penelope with her laptop, Spencer and Ash looking over her shoulders, Morgan and Clooney hanging out to advise and listen. "What exactly are we doing?" Morgan asked.

"Cutting Ashton Pettigrew loose the mortal coil." Spencer replied.

"Excuse me?"

"We're creating an online persona with the name 'Ashton Pettigrew'." Penelope replied. "This way we can control at least part of the message going out there and also as an even stronger decoy to get her parents looking in another direction for the foreseeable future. Then we're going to give... _her_...a new identity she can make into whatever she wants. Once we find the missing bits in the data trail and have enough to make our arrests Ashton Pettigrew can fade away into the sunset and _she_ can go on with her life."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Primarily through Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter. Instagram, Tumblr and Pinterest might be too much work."

"How much time am I going to have to put into this?" _She_ asked.

"Little to none." Penelope replied with a smile. "We're going to automate the whole thing. And these profilers here are going to help."

"How?" Morgan asked.

"We have interview notes about what Senator and Mrs. Pettigrew want in a child." Spencer replied. "And a general overview based on the likes and dislikes they posted on the Senator's website. Based on that we'll fill out the profiles on the sites, then come up with likely content he would share."

"Then I'll automate it so that content is regularly shared." Penelope said. "Something bland and inoffensive, just enough to support the persona. Like, you know those images with supportive quotes on them. 'Have a blessed day' over a sunrise kind of thing?"

"Only just a little more specific." Spencer replied. "Like ones geared toward cancer survivors."

"Right, so it looks like the profiles are active, and he's posting every few days. We'll make it look like he's a real person, living the kind of life his parents would approve of, just out of the public eye. In the meantime..." Penelope looked at the woman next to her. "Okay, you need a new name."

"I haven't even thought of it." She replied.

"What's your middle name?"

"Theresa. That will do."

"Yeah! So while my scripts keep Ashton alive online Tess here can go off and live her life with a whole new identity."

"Yeah, but is that legal?" Morgan asked.

Penelope gave him one of those looks. "Do you have any idea how many identities they created for Emily? We'll give Tess here Ash's old financial profile, so long as the IRS and the credit reporting agencies are happy no one will complain."

"All right then." Morgan nodded and was in.

"Okay, so Theresa what?" Penelope asked.

"I have no clue." Tess replied. But then, "Not Reid."

"No, you need a ring for that." Morgan said with a grin. Spencer immediately turned red.

"You know, you and I could be cousins." Penelope said.

"Theresa Garcia?" Tess asked.

"No, I took my stepfather's name, because he was amazing. My mother's maiden name was Hansen."

"Theresa Hansen." Tess nodded. "That will work."

They got out the computers and worked the rest of the afternoon and in to the evening. They started with Facebook, giving 'Ashton Victor Pettigrew' a cover with a blandly religious theme and using the old high school picture they had used on her father's website for his profile picture. They gave him a neat set of likes, used Tess's actual education history, and with the script Penelope wrote the page started slowly filling with likely inspirational images, human interest pieces and conservative click bait. Then she cross-linked it with Twitter, followed some likely celebs, and set the artwork to coordinate. After that she went to LinkedIn and with Morgan's help and Spencer's advice created an ideal profile.

In the meantime Tess created herself online. Her new profiles reflected her own likes and interests, her artwork was decidedly feminine, had a cat cuddling a yarn ball for her profile picture, and she set the privacy options to the most private she could. She followed only a few writers she enjoyed on Twitter. But when it came to LinkedIn she was stuck. "The one problem with this," She said, "is that I'm losing my educational background to Ashton."

"Do you actually like your educational background?" Penelope asked. "Or did you just go after it to make your folks happy?"

"To try to make them proud of me."

"Then go for what you want now. I'll make it air tight, don't worry."

"It might be kind of silly."

"Be as silly as you want to be." Penelope said with a smile. "Just send me the notes."

Tess smiled, shook her head, and started working on it.

Just then 'Ashton's' e-mail pinged. "It's from Follows." Spencer said.

"They're watching me that closely?" Tess asked.

"We haven't seen any sign of that around the neighborhood." Morgan replied.

"Likely he has an alert set on his devices to ping him if you set up a profile." Penelope added. "Passive surveillance, which is the easiest kind to work around now that we know."

Spencer read the e-mail. _We appreciate the effort. Please add the following to your profile. We'll continue to tell the media that you're recovering from the side effects of cancer treatment and while you support your father you're not up to helping him on the campaign trail._

Tess came over and looked at the list. "You have got to be kidding me." She said.

"We don't have to." Penelope replied.

"No. Let's add that one, that one and that one. But instead of those two let's add these." She found two other groups to follow and linked them up.

A few minutes later Follows sent another note. _Good enough. Thank you._

Tess leaned over his computer and typed a reply. _You're welcome. Keep my parents and their circus away from me and this profile will stay as is._

A moment later the reply came back. _Deal_.

"All right then." Morgan said.

Eventually it was done. Penelope had Tess go put her wig on, snapped a picture and moments later handed her a printed slip of paper. "There you go, Theresa Margaret Hansen. Welcome to the world. Your new ID should be here in seven to ten days."

Tess looked at them all with utter wonder, and burst into tears.

Spencer pulled her into his arms as the others smiled. "You're welcome."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**September 2011**

 

It felt intensely intimate.

Later that evening, in their softly lit bedroom, Tess came out of the bathroom dressed in only a loosely draped towel. She turned as Spencer pulled on gloves, then carefully applied a round patch about the size of the palm of his hand to her skin and covered it with a clear dressing. "I wanted to draw on that you know." He said.

"Draw on the patch?"

"Yeah. Dr. Bowers said it wouldn't be a good idea, chemicals from the pens might interfere with the delivery."

"But why?"

He shrugged. "Make it more feminine somehow, more...girly. Back when I was thinking that this was going to be a secret, remember?"

"Awww."

"I had another idea."

"Oh?" He tried not to wince out of fear she'd shut it down and held up one of the handful of pens he was holding. "Temporary tattoo ink?" She read off the label.

"Well, since I can't draw on the patch..." She wasn't shutting it down. In fact she was grinning. "Where do you want one?"

"Right here." She touched the front of her shoulder. He turned her away from any mirrors and started to draw. "You know I have to change this patch every Monday and Wednesday."

"Then I'll give you a drawing every Monday and Wednesday." He replied. "We can start fresh every Monday."

"For the next twenty-five years?"

"Sure." He would actually be all right with that. He daubed the space with a little alcohol to blend the ink like watercolor.

She was quiet a long moment. "You know, I don't think I should commit to anything relationship-wise until I'm as healthy as I can get." She said. "But that doesn't sound bad to me."

It took a moment for the understanding to sink in. _Oh_. "We'll discuss it in the spring then." He said. "In Buddhist philosophy the lotus is a powerful symbol. It grows in muddy water, and it is this environment that gives forth the flower's first and most literal meaning: rising and blooming above the murk to achieve enlightenment." He turned her to the mirror so she could look at the delicate lotus he had drawn on her skin.

She beamed. "It's beautiful." She said. "I might have to keep that one."

"I'll keep drawing it if you wish." He brushed a coat of sealer over it and blew on it to get it to dry.

"I do." She shivered at the sensation of his breath on her skin. As she looked up to meet his eyes he once again felt that spark of heat that could so easily grow. "It really is an injury, isn't it?"

"Yes." He replied. "You're not a freak." He knew she would start truly believing that as soon as those implants came out and she started feeling normal for her again.

"I know." She stepped into his arms and found his lips with hers.

He could feel it there, that heat that had been slowly growing between them. It was even stronger now, he sensed it could roar into an unstoppable flame with the slightest encouragement. "Do you...?" He managed to ask when that kiss ended.

"I think so." She replied, before kissing him again. "To try."

Ohhh, he hated having to say this. "I want to try, but not tonight." He stopped her before she could ask why not. "You just had surgery today, minor but surgery. If we pulled any of your stitches you'd regret it once the pain meds wore off."

At least he got her to laugh. "Good point. But soon though."

"Soon." He agreed. Very soon.

"In the meantime." She moved to pull her nightdress over her head, turning away so he wouldn't see her scars as she always did. "I will gladly risk a knock or two if you'll hold me tonight."

"My pleasure."

A couple of days later she took a deep breath, pulled on her feminine cut clothes, tucked her hair back with a gaily printed clip, and went with him to get pastry to go with breakfast at the bakery down the street. The counterman knew them, when he saw Tess his eyes lit with understanding. "Lookin' good, girl!" He said with grin.

Tess blushed, but lifted her chin and grinned back. "Thanks."

Spencer felt his own smile growing. This was how it was supposed to be.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**October 2011**

The good times lasted about a month.

It was a good month for the most part. Morgan helped the task force make some serious headway on the MBA steroids case. He got to go to a few games along the way, which he loved. He also spent a lot of time at the gym, it turned out that a serious gym in the Castro was just the place to get the advice he needed to reach certain fitness goals he'd been trying to make for a while.

He also got hit on. A lot. "Man, if I bent that way." He said at one point.

"You'd be very, very popular." Spencer replied.

"Very popular."

Spencer actually did work on the Zodiac case, not that he made any headway. He also started going to the gym. Not that he had the kind of goals that Morgan did, he wasn't built for it, but he was showing improvement, and might be able to knock off some of his waivers once recertification came around in the spring.

He also got hit on. A lot. "It's 'cause you're nearly the ideal twink." Penelope said.

"Twink?"

"A twink is the gay answer to the blonde bimbo cheerleader. You know, that golden color, vanilla, no nutritional value, tasty and cream filled..."

"Three doctorates. I totally have nutritional value!"

Morgan laughed for days over that one.

Tess spent a lot of time in therapy, a fair amount of time visiting specialists, and the rest of her time trying to figure out who she was. She signed up for classes and workshops for everything from yoga to cooking with stops for making things. At first Spencer was a little concerned that she was overdoing it, but she seemed to be keeping it well balanced, and more importantly she seemed happy. Her confidence was coming back, it seemed to shine from her whenever she entered the room.

She also got complimented. A lot. "Everyone thinks I'm an MTF transsexual." She said. "This community is amazingly supportive of that."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No. It's wonderful."

Penelope was the only one who didn't have any luck. She went through every computer connected to the case she could find, but she couldn't find anything to link the trafficking gang, the Senator's office or the medical center in Tehran to each other. "It has to be somewhere." She insisted. "I will find this."

"I know you will, my goddess." Morgan said.

"You know I will!"

In the meantime she was happy just being in San Francisco. When she needed a break she showed them around her hometown/state/region. They did the museums first, feasted their way around the city, played tourist in the various districts. She seemed to know everyone; there wasn't a performance she couldn't get tickets for or a gathering she couldn't join or a club she couldn't gain access to. On a couple of week-ends Dave came out, for one he dragged the guys out golfing on a course he always wanted to try. It turned out to be the one game where Spencer was actually better than Morgan. On the other they went up to Napa, tagged along while he re-stocked his wine cellar, and got a little snookered along the way.

The lowering of inhibitions led to Tess and Spencer finally giving it a go. Spencer knew how things had been taken apart and put back together; it wasn't hard to figure out which nerve was where. And a busy mouth was a very useful tool. With knowledge and a willingness to try he was able to finally convince her that he really didn't care how she looked, all he cared about was her being healthy enough to cry out in pleasure just like that. When she recovered and returned the favor he realized the size of this part of the world and how amazing exploring it with her would be.

The next morning he had to face the expecting ribbing. "You two are noisy." Dave complained.

"Sorry?" No, Spencer wasn't. Not really.

"You have got to learn how to keep it quiet on the road." Morgan said. "That way the team doesn't hear."

"Oh you have never brought a girl back when you were out on a case!" Penelope said.

"I call bull on that one." Dave agreed.

"I'm not even going there." Spencer went back to collecting breakfast for two from the buffet.

"She's not up yet?" Morgan asked.

Spencer smiled. "No."

All in all it was a good time. But good times never last. "Are you done yet?" JJ asked.

"Excuse me?" Spencer had called to talk to Henry. The one unfortunate part of their plan was not being in DC for Halloween, and being in a place that was really not child-friendly for that particular holiday. But he and Penelope were sending Henry a big box of creepy treats and were swapping lots of pictures to make up for not being there. "I'd love to have you guys come out but Garcia said we're doing a charity thing with the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence on Halloween that's really not child-friendly. Apparently she's an honorary novice. She wants Morgan and I to be altar boys. I'm not entirely certain what that means, I mean I consider myself agnostic, but if she really wants me to help her with a religious ritual..."

"Spence!" JJ interrupted. "Okay, we get it. You're gay. We're all okay with that. Now just come home, all right."

"Ummm, JJ, I'm on sabbatical for another eleven months..."

"Which doesn't mean anything. So find yourself already and come back."

"JJ..."

"Do you have any idea how much the work is piling up around here? Emily and I are here until six or seven every night trying to keep up with the consults."

Spencer was quiet a long moment. "You want me to drop what I'm doing and come back so I can go back to handling all the paperwork and you can go home early? I know people are covering for us..."

"For Morgan and Garcia. There's no one else like you." Her voice turned to temptation. "You're good at it, Spence. You always said you appreciated a good paper trail. And you make connection in the field ten times faster than Google. Now we just want you to come home and go back to what you enjoy."

He was quiet another long moment. "I'm sorry, I need to be out here right now."

She groaned in frustration. "Are you pouting? Is that what this is?"

"JJ, what has gotten in to you?"

"That's what it is. You're still upset because we fooled you, aren't you? You're still mad at us for that!"

"JJ! My being out here has nothing to do with you! That said you could at least apologize."

"For saving Emily's life or for catching Doyle?"

"For lying! The ends don't always justify the means JJ."

"I got the job done, that's what matters! You know what, forget I asked. Go back to blowing your new boyfriend. Some of us have work to do."

"JJ..." But she hung up on him.

Later he recited the conversation word for word to Morgan and Penelope. Morgan looked shocked. "Since when does JJ act like such a...a..."

"Bitch?" Penelope said. "I have no idea but something must be up with her because that is not the Jayje girl I know."

"I know." Spencer agreed. "She's been like that ever since she came back from her time at State."

"I thought she went to the Pentagon." Morgan said.

"No, she..." Now Penelope looked confused. "I'll call her this week-end. Maybe she'll talk to me."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**October 2011**

"Okay, so I tried talking to our dear Jayje last night." Penelope said. It was Sunday morning; they were all gathered in the parlor in lazy clothes. There was a lot of coffee and the Sunday paper and no reason to really move quickly. Tess was in the kitchen doing something that smelled heavenly. "Which did not go well. I asked her what was going on and it resulted in her biting my head off. So I emailed Rossi and he said she's been acting like she's under a lot of stress even though they've cut back their case load to compensate for being short experienced people. He thinks she and Will might be having problems."

"Ouch." Spencer said. "Henry seems okay though."

"Yeah, I haven't noticed anything either, but Rossi said it's becoming a problem in the field. He was going to say something to Hotch. I did check to see whether she was at State or Pentagon, and found both listed."

"Which means she was at neither." Morgan said. "And someone did not cover their tracks well. Something might have happened, this might be PTSD." He was sitting by the window, looking out at the street, but he had looked in and now he caught sight of Spencer's face. "Reid, what are you thinking?"

"That JJ is my friend and I want to be there for her. But right now I have my own, albeit mild, case to deal with. After that my priority is Tess."

"JJ has people in her corner, sweetie. You need to worry about you and yours right now." Penelope said kindly but firmly. "That will help her by making it so she doesn't have to worry about you and can focus on herself.  From what I have seen taking a break has been good for you and for Tess though."

"It has been." Time away from the mayhem had been allowing Spencer to confront his inner demons at a prodigious rate. Not that anyone ever enjoyed confronting inner demons, but at least it was getting over with.

"Break might be over." Morgan said. He'd gone back to peeking through the lace curtains. "Someone's watching the house."

Damnit. "Really?" Spencer got up and joined him. Sure enough there was someone sitting in a car out there, looking over more than he should. "He's not very good at it."

"No?"

"No. There are vacation rentals above the Laundromat across the street. He could watch us from there."

"Amateur playing TV cop then."

"So what do we do?"

"Watch them back until we figure out what they want."

"Badness is not supposed to happen in this neighborhood." Penelope said.

* * *

They were randomly followed about for the next few weeks. Spencer made a point of going with Tess wherever she went. The Zodiac codes had gone unsolved since 1974, they could sit a little longer. The important thing was her safety, nothing else mattered to him.

The funny thing was that he actually started enjoying himself.

Okay, yoga made him feel silly. He sat in the corner and politely watched the morning dance classes. And the various meetings and classes of a religious or philosophical nature brought out his inner need to debate. But the crafty things turned out to be a lot more fun and relaxing than he expected. After a few knitting lessons he broke down and bought a kit for a Dr. Who scarf for conventions, and yarn for a scarf to wear through a DC winter, one in rich, jewel tones. Embroidery was kind of fiddly, but he found the geometry of quilts kind of soothing, and appreciated how quickly you could feel like you accomplished something. And cooking and baking were both practical and a laughing good time, and you got to eat your results, which was always a positive benefit. "Okay, from now on I am packing knitting along on every case." He said one night. Then he caught the look on Morgan's face. "Laugh if you want, I have yet to come up with a faster, less invasive way to actually get to sleep."

Morgan considered this and shrugged. "Just don't do it where the local LEO's can see you." He replied. "Trust me."

"Good point."

On more than one occasion he found himself in the café/Laundromat across the street from the house with Tess, waiting on laundry, drinking tea or coffee and knitting or sewing. No one in the neighborhood gave them a second look. They also didn't give Tess a second look if she came out looking all boy in darker clothes, no makeup, flat and with her hair brushed down, or if she came out in a dress, falsies, make-up and a full wig, or anything in between. No one here cared, unless it was to admire her good looks. "This is why I'm glad I'm not going back to DC until I'm fully back to being a woman." She said one time. "I don't know of any place else so accepting of someone in transition."

Morgan went back to the local office and got some help watching the watchers. They were able to get pictures of a number of clean cut young men, none of whom came up in any database. "Why do I feel like we're doing this with one hand behind our backs?" He asked.

"Because we're short half the team." Spencer replied.

On the fifth day one of those clean cut young men came to the door. But they didn't realize until Tess answered, since they were expecting pizza. "Is Ash around?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, who?" She asked.

"Ash Pettigrew."

"No. No Ash Pettigrew here."

"Yeah, but he's supposed to live here. Is the owner here?" The young man said. "You are?"

"Tess Larson. My cousin Penelope owns the house. As I understand Ash is out of town. Who are you?"

"Just a friend. Tell him we stopped by."

"I'll do that."

She shook for a long time after that.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked later that night.

"Sewing another pocket into your pants." Tess replied. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, the cloth draped over her lap. "I got the idea from a pattern for travel clothes I found at the quilt shop the other day."

"Why?'

"Spare phone." She looked up with a smile. "In case of harbor bridges overhead."

Spencer smiled. "Neither of us is going anywhere."

She took a deep breath. "Those men out there make me nervous. There's nothing I can do, so I'm doing this."

It was worth an extra phone in his pants to calm her nerves. "All right. Not one for yourself though?"

She smiled at him. "I did mine this morning."

"Right."

* * *

"Aha! I finally have something!" Penelope said a few days later.

"What have you got for us baby girl?" Morgan said. They were in her temporary lair at the Federal Building. Now he left the desk he was using in the corner and came to peer over her shoulder.

"So at Tess' suggestion I've been keeping an eye on the elders at her father's church. One of them just sent an e-mail to...I cannot read this, but the server is located at Pahlavi Hospital in Tehran."

"They're gonna try again." Morgan nodded. "Okay, now we follow the money."

"Let's hope it leads us somewhere good."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**FBI offices**   
**Federal Building**   
**San Francisco, CA**

**November 2011**

Following the money paid off. "Okay, the church Tess' family belongs to transferred a million US to Pahlavi Hospital this morning." Penelope said the next morning. "And another five million to an offshore account which I am still tracking."

"Why?" Morgan asked. "They would have to know it's too soon for her to have reversal surgery. And putting those implants in wouldn't take that much."

"I have no idea."

"Where did the money come from?"

"I'm still tracking that too. Give me a bit here."

"Do what you have to, we need a firm paper trail."

It took hours but right about the time that Morgan was ready to start climbing the walls Penelope crowed in success. "I got it!" She said. "There was a transfer from the Senator's campaign fund this morning. They tried to hide it but I found it!"

"Think that will be enough?"

"More than enough. I was able to track back from that sever in Tehran to another e-mail account." She read through quickly. "Pay dirt."

* * *

**Senate hearing room**   
**US Capitol Building**   
**Washington DC**

Andi was able to do a lot with what Penelope found.

Hotch was in the hallway outside of the chamber, waiting for his weekly turn in the hot seat, going over every detail of every case just because Cramer could, when Andi and her people moved past him into the chamber. As the sound of a commotion came out of the room Dave strolled up to join him. "What's going on?" Hotch asked.

"Senator Pettigrew contracted with the Russian traffickers to kidnap his son and take him to Tehran for forced medical treatment. When we were brought in on the case he was able to follow it through our reports to the committee. He then contacted with them to have members of our team kidnapped to derail the investigation since he knew that his son was the outlier. He recently re-contracted with them to finish the job. That led Garcia to the hidden e-mail account he used to set it all up and the church elder who did his dirty work."

"And there's proof of this?"

"Full paper trail."

There was a commotion behind them. They turned to see Andi leading Senator Pettigrew out in handcuffs. Cramer followed, staring after them in shock. He spun around and glared at Hotch and Dave. "You knew!" He said.

"Actually SSA Hotchner has never been part of this investigation." Dave said. "I'll testify to that under oath if you like. You know, they're going to question all of your reports on the bureau now, especially the ones that involve the BAU. In fact, they're going to have to investigate you to be certain you weren't helping him." Dave paused a moment. "Were you?"

Cramer's face was tinged with guilt. After a moment Andi's people led him away.

"Cramer and Pettigrew were watching us too closely." Hotch said.

"Just like Doyle was watching _us_ too closely. Granted we didn't have to have anyone die. But it was understandable. Still, that counseling thing..." Dave held up a hand. "I know, you had to be sure."

"But it's going to take time to rebuild trust after this." Hotch agreed. "I'm sorry it had to go down that way."

"I'm sorry this had to go down this way. Let's try to avoid this sort of thing in the future."

"Agreed."

* * *

**BAU Headquarters**   
**FBI building**   
**Quantico, VA**

"I cannot believe you actually went there." Emily said when they returned to the office to tell her and JJ.

"Cramer and Pettigrew were watching too closely..." Dave began.

"Oh I know. I know. Just like with Ian. But still." She shook her head. "Let's not all go there again, shall we?"

"Agreed."

"Does this mean they're coming home?" JJ asked.

"Morgan and Garcia will be. They're going to drive again, bring back some of the gear and Morgan's dog. They should be back in about a week."

"Good. What about Spence?"

"He won't be back for a while. He still needs some time."

JJ's face transformed to a mask of anger. "Damn it." She turned on her heel and strode back to the bullpen.

"JJ." Emily said as she trailed behind. "We pulled a number on him, you know. I mean, he does have major abandonment issues. It's going to take time."

"Bullshit!" JJ snapped back. "He's behaving like a child! He's off pouting while we're stuck with this pile of work!" She gestured to her desk, which held the usual stacks of files. "He's just mad because we fooled the giant intellect! And you're letting him get away with it!" She said to Hotch.

"Actually this has nothing to do with the team..." Dave started.

"Oh just stop! Getting the work done is the only thing that matters, we all know that. If you can't hack it then quit and go home!"

They noticed a certain wild look in her eye. "JJ, what is this?" Hotch asked calmly.

"This is getting the job done, all right! I'm sick and tired of being the only responsible one around here! I have a family you know, I'd like to be able to go home and take care of them once and a while!"

"JJ, what's wrong?" Emily asked.

That seemed to snap her out of it. "Nothing." She replied in a too calm voice. "Nothing's wrong. Just forget I said anything. Want some coffee?" She turned and headed to the kitchen,

"JJ." Emily followed her and watched as JJ poured herself a cup. But her hands were shaking so hard the liquid sloshed everywhere. "Come here."

Emily put her arm around her friend as JJ started to hyperventilate. "I can't...I can't breathe." She said.

Dave looked at Hotch. "I think we have another problem."

* * *

**FBI offices**   
**Federal Building**   
**San Francisco, CA**

"What happened?" Penelope asked.

"The colloquial term is nervous breakdown." Dave said. Penelope and Morgan were video conferencing with the team back in DC. "We still can't get what her assignment was but apparently it took her to Afghanistan."

"Afghanistan?" Morgan asked. "She didn't have any training for that kind of assignment."

"Apparently they needed a female profiler."

"Then why not take the one with international experience who spoke the language." Morgan looked at Emily. "No offence."

"None taken. You're right. And this happened before we knew Ian was out, I should have had the assignment."

"Strauss wanted someone more malleable." Hotch said as he joined them. "I spoke to the director about it, she falsified JJ's personnel file to make it look like she had more experience and training than she did. "

"Oh god damn it." Emily said.

"She was injured in an IED attack over there. According to the medical file they suspected a miscarriage, but Strauss refused to let her return for treatment."

"Son of a bitch." Morgan said.

"Poor Jayje." Penelope agreed.

"That's why she wanted the first available slot to get back." Dave said. "To get away from the stress, try to heal and maybe try again. But her first case back was when Reid went missing. She hasn't had a break."

"Well she's having one now. I've put her on medical leave pending a psych eval." Hotch sighed. "The Director has put Strauss on leave as well, only in her case without pay."

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Penelope asked.

"Likely. She just needs some time."

"Well, we'll be home in a week to pick up the slack again." Morgan said.

"I appreciate that."

* * *

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

"I don't know why he hasn't been answering his phone all afternoon." Penelope said as they went in the house. "The GPS has him at home."

"You know, lover boy might be busy." Morgan chuckled as he closed the door after her.

"I hope he's not going to be too upset about JJ."

"You know, there's only so much we can do to help her. Right now she needs the space to get help. Knowing that Reid is carrying his own load is part of giving her that space."

"I know, but still." It wasn't that big a house, it didn't take long to look around the main floor. "His GPS said he was here."

"I told you, they're probably upstairs." Morgan had gone to the back door, anticipating Clooney's entrance, but there was no Clooney. "Where's the dog? Reid?" He took the stairs two at a time.

"My spidey senses are tingling and not in a good way." Penelope said.

At the head of the stairs there was a sign of a struggle, a small table overturned, a vase broken. Morgan automatically pulled his gun and motioned Garcia back as he checked the spaces. "Reid?" He called out again.

"Derek! Help!" Came a voice from the bathroom.

It was locked, the key on the floor. Morgan opened it and let out a panicked Tess. "They took Spencer!"


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

**BAU Headquarters**  
FBI building  
Quantico, VA

**November 2011**

Hotch was in no mood to play games. "Where's my agent?" He asked.

Senator Pettigrew had agreed to meet them without a lawyer. God was on his side in this matter, he said, He will protect him. "I'm doing the poor dear a favor." He said with a gentle smile. "I'm helping her."

"You mean your daughter?" Dave asked.

The Senator's eyes flashed annoyance. "My _son_ is not gay." He said. "Which is why I could not understand where this...infatuation came from. But then my people were able to track him down and some friends from the church have been studying the situation for me. He _knits_ , you know. Has been quilting, bakes cupcakes. Goes shopping for vintage clothes, gets his hair cut at a salon, what kind of real man does those sorts of things? I prayed and prayed and finally the Lord granted me understanding."

"What understanding?" Hotch asked.

"That to those given great reward are also given great responsibility. Sometimes that means fixing the mistakes made in God's plan. Not that God ever makes mistakes but in this sinful world sometimes mistakes do happen after the fact. My son was born in the body of a woman, but he is still my son and as his father it's my responsibility to set that to right. And now this person he loves, well, clearly there's a women in there. Born in the body of a man."

"Really?" Dave asked.

"It's obvious to anyone who has eyes to see. As I understand her father is out of the picture. The sin falls on him for not taking the responsibility, fathers are responsible for shepherding their children. So I decided to do my future daughter-in-law a favor and fix the mistake, since her father refused to handle it." The Senator settled back with a pleased smile. "Everything will be put to right. I know in the future they will be very happy together. I'm looking forward to having her in the family; Mazie is already planning the wedding."

"It's something any good father would do." Dave said with an understanding nod.

"Exactly!"

* * *

"I think the technical term is some kind of delusional." Dave said over the video link. "I prefer the term batshit crazy."

"I don't blame you." Morgan said.

"Anything?"

"Nothing so far."

"We need to find him before he gets to the Middle East."

"And they start chopping bits off."

They'd brought a very upset Tess to the office with them, not certain where else she'd be safe. Now she looked in at the doorway. "Can I help?" She asked, her voice thick with tears.

"Oh, thank you sweetie, but right now..." Penelope sighed. "I just wish he still had his phone on him."

"He has his back up."

"His back up?"

"Yeah, he bought a small one just in case. He stuck it in his inner pocket this morning."

Penelope's eyes grew wide. "What's the number?"

* * *

 **Oyster Cove Marina**  
Slip #196  
South San Francisco, CA

It wasn't hard for Spencer to intuit what was going to happen.

The one good thing here was that he was not being transported on a cargo ship this time. No, this was a fairly nice yacht, likely belonging to one of the ranking men in the gang. For that kind of money things were being taken care of personally. Odds were they would make that much again when he returned.

His best bet was not leaving the marina.

Thankfully the owner of this boat was not yet on board. The men tossed him into a stateroom and locked the door. They'd taken his primary phone and gun, but hadn't found the secondary in the pocket Tess had hidden in his pants. Now he took it out, made sure it was on and Penelope could track it, and then hid it on the windowsill.

Then he went to throw himself on the crew's mercy.

He once told Hotch he did his best work under extreme terror. Turned out he could do it in Russian as well. The man who arraigned this was angry with him because he ran away with his daughter. This was revenge, pure and simple. But what kind of revenge, send him off to become a woman? Cut off his testicles, give him breasts, hormones? What kind of punishment was that? This man was insane, could you just imagine if it was one of you? Could you? Please just let him go, he would run and never be found again. Just let him keep the bits the good Lord gave him.

He didn't expect them to actually let him go, he just needed to slow them down. After talking, begging, imploring longer than he thought possible he heard the sirens. They all looked to the end of the marina where the vehicles were pulling in, lights flashing. "Vy zaderzhivayetsya s nami!" The leader hissed. "You delay us!"

Spencer gestured to his pants. "Vy mozhete obvinit' menya ?" Can you blame me?

The leader considered this. "Nyet." He said without heat. He gestured to his men to give up their weapons.

Spencer slumped down on a ladder as the boat was swarmed with cops. "There you are." Morgan said as he joined them. "You had us worried."

"You were worried?! Do you have any idea..."

"I can guess. Everything still intact then?"

"Yeah." This was nearly a nightmare. "Is Tess okay?"

"Yep. She's back at the office with Cousin Penelope. And the Senator confessed. Looks like we're good."

"No." They wouldn't be good until Tess was back to what she wanted, needed to be. "But it's a clear path to get there.  Finally."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

**4014 18th St  
San Francisco, CA**

**November 2011**

"Spence, I'm sorry." JJ said.

Spencer slouched into the wing chair in the living room. They had resolved a lot of the issues plaguing them. The Unsubs were in custody, the threats were neutralized, everyone who needed therapy was getting some and Morgan and Garcia were on their way home before the snow really got to flying. This time should be good, he should be looking forward to an extended rest, healing and helping Tess heal, before returning to DC and a new life together.

But there were other wounds that needed to heal first. "It's all right, JJ. You lost a baby, I completely understand."

"Yes, but I should have trusted you. I should have trusted everyone, I should have called the moment I landed in Kandahar and let everyone know what was going on."

"I don't know that we could have done anything to help you at that point."

"I don't know, maybe, maybe not, but at least we would have been talking."

"That would have been for the best. What are you going to do now?"

"Take some time. I plan to go back, I won't be away forever, but right now I need some time to go back over what happened and figure it all out."

"That's kind of what I'm doing too. I mean I know I'm going back to the unit but the rest of my life needs some work."

"Maybe we should make it a unit thing. Every ten years you have to take at least six months of intensive therapy."

"Given the work we do that might not be a bad plan."

"So how is Ash doing? Sorry, Tess doing?"

"That's kinda complicated still, but a lot better."

* * *

"What are you thinking?" He asked as he settled onto the rooftop deck.

"That I have time." Tess replied. "For the first time in my life I have time to really figure out who I am, what I want. Not what I think will make my parents happy or what will somehow balance the great cosmic ledger and undo the damage they have done. I can do whatever I want, I can live a life that makes me happy."

"Yes, you can. Do you have any idea what you want?"

"Right now? I want a home. I want a safe, quiet, cozy home that I can always return to. And I want a family. Except...I think I already have that."

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in. "Yeah, you do. I think we both do."

* * *

**1726 19th NW Street**   
**Unit 3B**   
**Washington DC**

**June 2012**

"And that is the last box." Spencer said as he dropped it in the middle of the room. "Where are you?"

Eight days ago Tess had finally been released from medical care. Seven days ago they had gotten on the road, too impatient to start their future together to wait any longer to return to DC. San Francisco was a magical place of healing and always would be now, but they wanted to be home.

Six days ago they had stopped in a chapel in Las Vegas and with Spencer's mother in attendance made it official. Now Spencer heard the water running upstairs. He looked about the box strewn room, wondered once again how they had managed to collect so much in what they knew was a temporary home, decided not to think about that now, and headed upstairs to the loft bedroom. "Leave me some hot water." He said through a crack in the door.

"I surely will." She replied.

Not too long later she came out, her hair long enough to curl now, the curls damp on her head. She was wrapped in the loose, silk robe she had found in Chinatown. "Good to be home?" He asked.

"Very much so." She replied, giving him a significant look.

But the significance was confusing. "What?"

"Remember how I said I wanted to wait until we were in our own home?"

"Yeah."

"We're home." With that she opened the robe.

She hadn't let him look at her after the surgery. He knew it had gone well, but she hadn't let him peep under the bandages at all. And now...now his mouth went very dry. "You're beautiful." He said.

"You always say that."

"It's always been true."

"Maybe so. But now I like what I see in the mirror." She stepped easily into his arms.

"That's what matters. Good to be home?" He asked again.

"Very much so. Come here."

* * *

**BAU Headquarters.**   
**FBI building**   
**Quantico, VA**

The next day was a year to the day, Spencer realized as he stood in the elevator. A year to the day since he disappeared in the blast of a flashbang. A year to the day and as good as last night had been, as much as he knew that place was now his safe haven with his love waiting, now that he was back at the BAU he finally felt like he was all the way home. "They aren't planning anything, are they?" He asked.

"What, you mean like did baby girl make a cake or something?" Morgan asked, complete with poker face.

Spencer groaned.

The doors opened.

They walked into the main office.

Penelope had made a cake.

"Welcome back!" She cried.

There were hugs all around. They were all there, Dave, Emily, Hotch, even Seaver who wasn't with their unit anymore and who was still dating Mike from Interpol. But it felt right to have her there, to see her happy and healthy too. "You shouldn't have." He said to Penelope.

"I didn't." She replied. "Someone decided we needed ice cream cake with our coffee." She pointed behind him.

He turned and spotted his other sister. "JJ!" Hugs happened. "Are you back too?"

"Not quite, I see the doctor on Thursday." She said. "Although it will be temporary." She pointed in the direction of her navel.

It took a minute but then his eyes widened. "Oh my god! Congratulations! Are you happy?"

"Thank you." She said with a smile. "Yes, very."

"Good."

"Temporarily or not, what matters is that our family is together again." Dave said. "All of us."

And that was the best of all.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end of another tale. Once again much thanks goes to my beta reader, the amazing REIDFANATIC.
> 
> Thank you all for reading.
> 
> \- TKL


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